THE 

i 


DOW  N-E  A  S  T  E  R  S, 


&c.  &c.  &c. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 


VOL.    I. 


NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED  BY  HARPEit  <fc  BROTHERS, 

82   CLIFF   STRt.ET, 

AND    SCLP   BT    THK    PRINCIPAL   BOOKSELLERS  THROCGHOtTT 
THE   UNITED   STAT£S. 

1833. 


[Entered  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress  in  the  yearn,1  oi,> 
Lord  one  thousand,  eight  hundred  and  thirty-three,  by  HAUPKT 
&  BROTHERS,  in  the  Clerk's  office,  of  the  Southern  District  «< 
New- York.] 


S.XOWDEX,  PRISTER,  58  W ALL-STREET 


PREFACE; 

JlR  A    PRELIMINARY    ESSAY   0!C    MATTXR8   AHD   THINGS   1H   GEHZIUt. 

TO  THE  READER— 

IF  the  language  and  general  behaviour  of 
those  whom  a  traveller  meets  with,  in  journeying 
over  this  country  now,  should  improve  as  much, 
and  alter  as  much  in  proportion  during  the  next 
fifty  years,  as  they  have  within  the  last  fifteen  or 
twenty,  there  will  be  hardly  a  vestige  left  of  our 
strongest  and  sharpest  peculiarities.  Our  grand 
children — perhaps  our  children — may  know  as 
little  of  their  immediate  progenitors  in  the  fa 
miliar  business  of  life;  of  their  speech,  dress  and 
general  deportment,  as  we  know  in  this  day  of 
research  and  prying  curiosity,  about  the  fire-side 
feelings,  the  every-day  habits,  and  the  real  spoken 
language  of  our  primitive  fathers. 

And  what  price  would  be  too  much  to  pay  now, 
by  any  hearty  lover  of  his  country,  or  of  his 
country's  literature,  for  a  dialogue  of  their  day, 
faithfully  reported  from  their  lips? — not  imagined 
and  put  together  in  the  closet ;  taken  down  word 
for  word  from  the  mouth  of  the  talker, — not  so 
berly  and  thoughtfully  prepared  by  a  learned  or 
popular  author  from  a  glossary  and  a  grammar ; 
a  rough  sketch  if  you  will,  but  trustworthy  and 
^characteristic,  and  all  alive  with  individuality — 


IV  PREFACE. 

not  a  language  that  nobody  on  earth  ever  talked, 
or  thought  of  talking,  although  everybody  of 
any  pretension  may  have  written  it  all  his  life 
long  ;  nor  such  as  may  be  found  every  day  of  the 
year  in  some  quiet,  sleepy,  good-for-nothing  book, 
made  up  to  order  from  Dr.  Blair.  Allison  on 
Taste,  or  the  British  Classics  hashed  over  ? 

Tell  me  not  that  faithful  representations  of 
native  character,  which  are  neither  intended  for 
example  nor  offered  for  imitption,  are  of  no  use. 
They  are  ol  use.  They  bring  strangers  ac 
quainted  with  what  we  are  most  anxious  to  con 
ceal — the  truth  ;  and  what  is  more,  they  bring  us 
acquainted  with  ourselves,  with  our  own  pecu 
liarities  and  our  own  faults. 

Were  I  to  say,  that  after  hundreds  and  hun 
dreds  of  volumes  have  been  written,  purporting 
to  describe  the  New-Englander,  there  are  but 
two  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  (one  a  novel  and 
the  other  a  play*)  containing  so  much  as  one 
single  phrase  of  pure  Yankee,  the  reader  would 
be  astonished.  And  yet  1  should  say  no  more 
than  the  simple  truth.  Let  him  go  into  the  lar 
gest  of  our  circulating  libraries  to  morrow,  and 

*The  Yankeein  England,by  Gen.  Humphries,  (dedicated lo  Mr 
Gifford,)  is  a  Connecticut-main.  Mathews,  Hackelt  and  11  ill,  have 
borrowed  largely  from  it  however  in  their  general  representation 
of  the  New- Englander  Since  this  preface  was  written,  two  or 
three  capital  stories  have  appeared  in  the  newspapers  and  annuals 
with  a  deal  of  pure  Yankee  in  them  ;  and  Paulding,  a  New-Eng- 
lander  to  th«  back-bon^.  has  brought  forth  two  or  three  good 
ipecimens  of  Yankee  character,  though  the  Innguage  is  not  Yan 
kee,  or  to  speak  more  cautiously,  not  pure  Yankee.  And  as  for 


PREFACE.  r 

tumble  over  a  cart-load  of  story-books  and 
novels,  English  or  Scotch,  native  or  otherwise  ; 
for  the  Yankee,  like  the  Indian  of  our  country, 
has  been  tried  by  every  vvhippersnapper  in  litera 
ture  ;  and  by  not  a  few  distinguished  writers  of 
England,  Scotland,  France,  Germany,  and  the 
United-States  ;  one  day  in  a  story,  another  in  a 
poem  ;  here  in  a  play  and  there  in  a  history — and 
for  every  phrase  of  pure  New-England  speech 
he  meets  with,  I  will  undertake  to  find  a  lump  of 
pure  gold  in  the  sweepings  of  the  first  poor-house 
I  come  to,  or  to  fish  up  a  pearl  from  the  first 
puddle  of  dirty  water  I  find. 

To  judge  by  our  novel-writers,  play-makers 
and  poets,  with  here  and  there  a  partial  ex 
ception,  rather  by  accident  than  otherwise,  we 
have  cottages  and  sky-larks  in  our  country ;  phea 
sants  and  nightingales,  first  families,  youth  of  a 
'gentle  blood,'  and  a  virtuous  peasantry  ;  moss- 
grown  churches,  curfews  and  ivy-mantled  towers; 
with  a  plenty  of  hard-hearted  fathers,  runaway 
matches — to  nobody  knows  whom,  for  nobody 
knows  what  ;  unfaithful  wives,  cruel  step-mo 
thers,  treacherous  brothers — any  thing  and  every 

the  Yankee  of  Cooper,  notwithstanding  his  great  cleverness  in 
dramatic  portraiture,  they  are  dead  failures,  like  every  sample  to 
be  found  in  the  romances  of  Mr.  Gait  (whose  early  Scotch  nereis 
are  unequalled  for  truth,  burner  and  originality)  of  Mr.  Fearon, 
of  Mrs.  Trollope  and  of  Mrs.  Captain  B.  Hall,  who  never  by  any 
accident  happen  to  give  a  specimen  of  true  Yankee,  nor  hardly 
ever  a  downright  Americanism;  the  dialogues  of  all  being  evi 
dently  maiJe  up  from  the  disjointed  materials  of  a  common-place 
book,  put  together  by  strangers. 


VI  PREFACE. 

thing  in  short  which  goes  to  the  ground-work  of' 
a  third-rate  English  or  Scotch  novel,  and  no 
thing — absolutely  nothing — whereby  a  stranger 
would  be  able  to  distinguish  an  American  story 
from  any  other,  or  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  our 
peculiar  institutions,  or  of  the  state  of  society 
here,  if  I  except  a  short  story  or  two  by  Flint — 
or  myself — in  our  baby-house  annuals — here  and 
there  a  passage  of  Miss  Ledgwick,  a  portion  of 
Paulding's  rough,  honest  and  powerful,  though 
sometimes  rather  ill-natured  portraitures,  the 
earlier  efforts  of  Cooper — and  I  wisk  1  might  say, 
of  Brown  and  Irving,  but  even  they  are  not  exam 
ples  :  their  books  are  not  American,  though  they 
themselves  are. 

Are  these  things  to  continue  ?  I  hope  not.  I 
believe  not.  Something  I  have  attempted  here ; 
and  more  I  may  attempt  hereafter,  should  1  have 
time  for  pursuing  the  experiment,  and  preparing 
the  way  for  a  change ;  but  the  chief  work  and 
the  glory  thereof  must  be  left  to  others;  to  the 
younger  and  the  more  enthusiastic,  with  a  longer 
life  before  them. 

Is  the  language  here  put  into  the  month  of  the 
New-Englander,  that  which  is  heard  in  real  life  f 
Are  the  manners  here  ascribed  to  him,  characte 
ristic?  Then,  however  peculiar  and  however 
absurd  they  may  appear,  they  ought  to  be  por 
trayed  ;  nay — the  more  absurd  and  the  more 
peculiar,  so  much  the  more  do  they  deserve  to 


PREFACE.  Vll 

be  portrayed  ;  and  so  much  the  better  will  it  be, 
not  only  for  tnv  book,  but  for  the  iNew-Englander 
himself  At  first,  he  may  deny  the  truth  of  the 
portrait — I  have  known  such  a  thing  to  occur — I 
have  known  people  refuse  to  believe  their  own 
ears.  Do  you  doubt  this? — Try  the  experiment 
for  yourself.  l>o  me  the  favor  to  stop  the  first 
man  you  hear  talking,  no  matter  where  ;  and 
you  will  never  persuade  him  that  the  transcript 
of  his  speech  you  hold  in  your  hand,  is  a  faithful 
copy.  Ten  to  one,  he  flies  in  a  passion  with  you  ; 
but  if  you  can  persuade  him  to  go  home  quietly, 
and  watch  his  next-duor  neighbor  for  a  day  or 
two,  you  wilt  be  astonished  at  the  difference  in 
his  manner  when  you  meet  again.  But  who 
would  believe  it!  he  will  sa^.  Everybody  about 
me  talks  one  language,  and  writes  another. 

The  first  step  toward  improvement  is  having 

our  faults  made  visible  to  ourselves and  to 

others. 

But  perhaps  it  may  be  said  that  I  do  not  give 
a  faithful  picture.  To  which  I  answer per 
haps  1  do.  And  if  I  do  not,  how  easy  to  expose 
me. 

And  if  the  picture  is  faithful,  I  am  betraying 
my  country.  Be  it  so.  If  she  is  only  to  be 
upheld  by  untruth  ;  if  to  speak  the  truth,  is  to 
betray  her, — I  shall  do  my  bust  to  betray  her, 
now  and  forever — here  and  hereafter — whenever 
and  wherever  I  may  think  it  for  her  advantage. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


P.  S. — The  original  sketch  of  two  scenes  here,  amounting 
altogether  to  about  a  dozen  or  fifteen  pages.  Ihe  reader  may  have 
met  with  before.  Some  time  in  the  month  of  April.  1830,  a 
person  I  did  not  know  and  had  never  seen,  wrote  to  me  from 
New-York,  to  request  a  contribution  lor  a  new  periodical,  about 
(o  be  established  there.  Being  very  busy  at  the  time,  and  having 
other  and  very  good,  though  private  reasons  for  saying  no,  I 
refused.  Again  he  applied — ottering  terms,  which  I  agreed  to: 
and  I  sent  a  paper  describing  a  series  of  incidents  on  board  u 
steam-boat.  It  was  published  in  thr  first  number  of  the  periodical 
referred  to — which,  by  the  by,  never  reached  a  second  And  all 
that  I  know  of  either  magazine  or  *-<iitor,  and  1  ma;  add  of  the 
publisher,  is  that  I  never  got  my  pay,  and  that  the  individual  who 
applied  to  me,  signed  himself  I  dwitrd  ThompMM  of  Wall-street. 
New-York.  Having  written  both  to  the  publiihers  and  to  him, 
without  receiviNg  any  answer,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  retouch 
the  outline  referred  t<<.  or  my  own  account.  I:  they  are  dissatis 
fied,  they  will  please  look  to  me  for  the  damages. 

THE    AUTHOK. 


CHAPTER  I, 

WE  were  on  our  way  from  Philadelphia  to  Balti 
more,  in  the  beautiful  month  of  May,  1814  ;  our  boat 
crowded  with  passengers,  the  oddest  collection  you 
ever  saw,  and  the  British  lying  not  far  off  in  consider 
able  force  ;  and  yet,  so  assured  were  we  of  our  ability  to 
escape,  as  not  even  to  be  kept  awake  by  our  danger 
ous  neighborhood.  The  war,  chess,  politics,  flirting, 
pushpin,  tetotum,  and  jackstraws,  (cards  being  pro 
hibited,)  newspapers  and  religious  tracts,  had  all  been 
tried,  and  all  in  vain  to  relieve  the  insipidity  of  a 
pleasant  passage,  and  keep  off  the  drowsiness  that 
weighed  upon  our  spirits  like  the  rich  overloaded 
atmosphere  of  a  spice-island,  breathing  about  a  soft 
summer  sea.  Even  the  huge  negroes  felt  and  enjoyed 
the  delicious  warmth,  as  they  lay  stretched  out,  heads 
and  points,  over  the  piles  of  split  wood,  with  their  fat 
shiny  faces  turned  up  to  the  sky,  and  their  broad  feet 
stiffening  in  the  shadow. 

The  smooth,  steady,  uninterrupted  motion  of  our 
way — it  was  like  one  long  continued  launch — with 
the  soft  sleepy  blue  overhead,  and  the  still  softer 
and  sleepier  wave  underneath,  would  have  been  too 
much  for  the  wakefulness  of  any  body  alive,  but  a 
thief-taker  on  the  scent  of  his  prey — or  a  reader  of 
some  such  book  as — as — as  I  intend  this  to  be. 

Yaw — aw — a\r  !  I  wonder  what  o'clock  'tis  now  ? 
drawled  a  man  who  lay  stretched  out  on  no  less  than 
five  different  chairs,  ia  a  spot  which  glowed  like  the 


2  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

reflection  of  a  furnace-mouth  upon  a  white-washed 
wall ;  with  a  yellow  handkerchief  drawn  over  his  face, 
and  a  hat  fixed  under  his  head — Yaw — aw — aw !  never 
seed  sich  weather  afore  since  I  cum  inter  the  world  ; 
I  swan  if  I  did  ! 

The  remark  was  probably  intended  for  me,  though 
directed  to  nobody  in  particular — merely  thrown  out, 
as  a  lawyer  would  say — after  the  manner  of  people 
who  want  to  be  familiar  without  the  risk  of  being 
snubbed.  I  had  been  dusting  the  face  of  my  watch  a 
moment  before,  and  laughing  with  a  pretty  little 
quakeress,  who  sat  near  me,  at  the  perverse  ingenuity 
of  this  very  man,  who  had  lost  his  own  shadow  for 
the  twentieth  time  at  least,  while  pursuing  it  blind 
folded,  with  his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes,  and  a  bandan 
na  over  his  mouth.  But  I  told  him  the  hour,  never 
theless. 

Thee  appears  to  be  a  stranger  in  these  parts,  added 
a  venerable  man,  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  lit 
tle  quakeress,  in  a  Philadelphia  coat  and  a  snufF-colored 
beaver ;  stooping  toward  me  as  he  spoke,  so  that  a 
sprinkle  of  white  hair — the  whitest  and  thinnest  I  ever 
saw,  blew  athwart  her  upturned  eyes — I  could  just  see 
their  color  through  it — they  were  as  like  the  sky  as 
any  earthly  thing  could  well  be — just  about  as  blue, 
and  just  about  as  clear — starry,  with  a  white  mist  fly 
ing  over  them. 

I  bowed,  and  was  on  the  point  of  replying  at  length, 
after  the  fashion  of  my  country,  when  there  are  plenty 
of  chairs  within  reach  of  our  arms  and  legs,  like  one 
of  those  figures  which  painters  draw  from  the  points; 
made  by  five  bits  of  paper,  dropped  together  upon  a 
table ;  when  a  stiff,  straight,  bony-looking  Down, 


THE   DOWN   EASTER,    &C.   &C.  3 

Easter,  with  a  straw  hat,  high  cheek-bones,  a  nose  like 
a  sun-dial,  and  the  sharpest  mouth  you  ever  saw  in  a 
domesticated  Yankee,  who  had  been  galloping  about 
the  deck  for  two  hours  at  full  speed,  with  his  new  coat 
sleeves  pushed  half  way  up  the  elbow,  (as  'if  he  had 
just  prepared  to  wash  himself)  so  as  to  betray 
a  cotton  shirt  with  linen  wristbands,  and  large  brass 
sleeve-buttons ;  his  collar  turned  back,  and  his  shirt- 
bosom  all  open  to  the  waist, — made  a  full  stop  in  front 
and  addressed  me  as  follows — looking  another 
way  all  the  time.  If  he  is  a  stranger  in  these  parts,  I 
can  tell  him  he'd  better  have  his  eye-teeth  cut  afore 
he's  much  older ;  if  he  don't  (lowering  his  voice  to  a 
sort  of  whistle,  and  puckering  up  his  mouth  into  the 
oddest  of  all  possible  shapes  for  a  mouth,  stooping  over, 
turning  up  one  foot  sideways,  and  beginning  to  count 
the  stitches  in  the  shoe,)  if  he  don't  shave  putty  nigh 
the  grinstun,  somebody  'the's  ben  so  ter'ble  thick  with 
'11  show  him  what's  what,  afore  he's  done  with  him — 
ketch  a  weazle  asleep,  hey  ?  (cocking  his  eye  at  me,) 
wish  his  cake  dough  ;  if  he  don't  there's  none  o'  me, 
that's  all. 

Pray  sir,  said  I,  in  no  little  trepidation,  I  confess  ; 
for  I  saw  by  his  look  what  no  mortal  would  have 
gathered  from  his  speech,  that  I  had  something  to 
fear, — Pray,  sir,  if  you  mean  me,  what  is  the  danger 
you  speak  of? 

Instead  of  replying — he  blew  a  long  breath,  pulled 
down  his  sleeves,  pulled  'em  up,  looked  at  my  watch 
and  then  at  the  old  quaker ;  shifted  his  feet ;  blew  an 
other  long  breath ;  and  then  set  off  with  more  energy 
than  ever — walking  away  as  if  he  had  a  wager  in  view, 
swinging  the  tail  of  his  queer-shaped  coat,  which  he 


4  THE    DOWN    EASTBRS,    &C.    &C. 

had  now  thrown  back  half  off  his  shoulders,  first  one 
side  and  then  the  other,  at  every  step  he  took ;  now 
fanning  himself  with  all  his  might,  and  now  shading 
his  face  with  a  ragged  newspaper ;  treading  the  deck 
as  if  he  would  go  through  whap  into  the  seller,  as  he 
called  it,  where  they  keep  the  sarse  aboard-ship;  and 
flirting  a  new  pocket  handkerchief  after  the  manner  of 
most  Americans  and  of  all  New-Englanders,  now  this 
way  and  now  that,  now  drawing  it  through  his  hand 
and  now  flourishing  it  in  the  breeze,  till  every  thing 
was  in  motion  about  him — leaves,  pamphlets,  dust, 
ribbons,  and  newspapers. 

A  pretty  way  for  a  body  to  keep  himself  cool,  said 
I,  in  what  I  meant  for  a  confidential  v^Lisper  to  the 
dear  little  creature  at  my  elbow, — who  let  lall  her  dark 
lashes  in  a  hurry,  half  averted  her  face  in  reply,  and 
bit  her  under  lip. 

Too  drowsy  by  half,  thought  1,  and  rather  too  stiff 
on  the  whole,  for  hot-weather  companionship  aboard 
a  steamboat  ;  and  looking  at  her  again,  I  thought  her 
eyes  did  not  appear  quite  so  blue,  nor  altogether  so 
transparent  as  they  had  a  few  minutes  before,  when  she 
was  inclined  to  be  more  sociable  ;  and  turning  away 
from  her  in  somewhat  of  a  huff,  I  observed  a  handsome 
young  man  a  little  way  off  lounging  over  the  quarter- 
rail  with  his  hat  off,  and  a  mass  of  black  hair,  of  un 
shorn  plumage  rather,  as  black  as  death,  and  glossy 
with  strange  brightness-floating  off  and  rising  and  fal 
ling  over  his  temples  at  every  pitch  of  the  boat,  as  if 
stirred  and  lifted  by  a  strong  sea-breeze.  Whether 
he  saw  her,  I  do  not  know — nor  whether  he  knew 
her — but  her  eye  was  upon  him,  and  I  could  see  her 
mouth  tremble,  and  the  delicate  lawn  over  her  young 


THE    DOWN    EASTER8,  &C.    &C.  6 

bosom  shiver,  as  he  turned  away.  Anthhen,  happening 
to  shift  my  place,  I  observed  the  fellow  who  lay 
stretched  out  his  whole  length  upon  half  a  score  of 
cane  chairs  without  backs,  with  his  head  lifted  up 
and  resting  on  his  elbow — and  his  face  turning  after 
me- — as  if  instead  of  being  asleep,  he  had  placed 
himself  there  for  no  purpose  on  earth  but  to  observe 
my  motions.  I  recollected  him  now — he  had  stuck  to 
my  side — saying  nothing,  doing  nothing  from  the  first 
moment  I  happened  to  pull  out  my  watch  below  ;  with 
all  his  legs  and  arms  stretched  out  here  and  there  over 
the  costly  furniture,  as  if  they  had  been  all  shipwreck 
ed  together ;  one  leg  lying  across  a  superb  mahogany 
table,  another  bent  over  the  top  of  a  tilted  chair,  and 
one  elbow  finding  its  way  slowly — slowly  but  surely — 
through  the  bottom  of  a  cane-wrought  sofa,  which  he 
had  contrived  to  fix  up  aslant  behind  him.  At  this  mo 
ment  the  handkerchief  slipped  down  from  his  eyes, 
and  I  found  him  watching  me  like  a  cat.  At  first 
I  felt  rather  uneasy  ;  but  then,  what  had  I  to  fear  ? 
The  fellow  was  evidently  a  down-easter ;  and  there 
fore,  incapable  of  any  thing  that  would  bring  him 
within  the  grasp  of  the  law.  Finding  that  he  was  ob 
served,  he  stretched  himself  out,  gaped  like  a  tame 
lioness  for  half  a  minute  or  so,  and  then  turning  away, 
went  to  sleep  with  his  back  toward  me. 

A  full  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this,  when  I  had  en 
tirely  forgotten  the  man,  the  handsome  stranger,  the 
little  quakeress,  and  myself — dignity  and  all,  and  was 
occupied  with  a  strange  tumultuous  revery,  which 
came  up,  and  moved  before  me  like  a  vision  of  the 
future,  and  which  has  turned  out  since  to  be  prophecy — 
I  heard  a  bell  ring — a  slight  bustle  midships — and  then 
A2 


f)  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

boat  lurched,  and  all  at  once  we  lay  motionless 
our  upon  the  slope  of  the  sea.  Some  of  our 
machinery  was  out  of  order  for  the  first  time; 
and  though  the  greatest  exertions  were  made,  on  ac 
count  of  our  dear  friends,  the  British,  who  were  all 
abroad  over  the  Chesapeake,  we  lost  nearly  five  hours 
by  the  delay.  During  this  period,  the  youthful  stran 
ger  .with  the  black  hair,  entered  into  conversation 
with  the  old  quaker,  and  continued  it  so  k>ng  and  so 
earnestly,  that  I  had  the  finest  opportunity  in  the  world 
for  surveying  his  face.  I  think  I  never  saw  a  finer  mouth, 
more  luminous  eyes,  nor  a  more  exalted,  intelligent 
countenance,  take  it  altogether.  Animated,  fiery  and 
changeable — with  a  dash  of  haughty  seriousness,  and 
what  I  should  call  sorrow  in  another — a  sort  of  proud 
melancholy,  that  could  not  bear  to  be  approached  or 
questioned, — it  fixed  my  attention  from  the  first,  and 
absolutely  fascinated  the  poor  girl  ;  for  though  the 
conversation  did  not  appear  to  be  intended  for  her, 
and  was  conducted  in  a  very  low  voice,  I  could  per 
ceive  that  she  heard  it  all,  and  was  deeply  interested 
in  the  subject,  whatever  it  was.  Her  half-opened  lips, 
her  eager  attitude— her  occasional  change  of  color, 
and  her  low  suppressed  breathing,  betrayed  her. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  altered  expression  of  her 
sweet  sober  child-like  face  !j  It  began  to  light  up 
with  a  look  of  womanhood,  all  alive  with  a  new  inter 
est  and  a  new  energy.  And  yet,  so  far  as  I  could  see, 
and  I  had  watched  th.em  both  very  narrowly  above  an 
hour,  they  were  strangers  to  each  other ;  and  the 
young  man  did  not  even  look  at  her,  nor  she  at  him. 
But  there  they  sat — he  talking  to  the  old  man  as  about 
ft  matter  of  life  and  death  ;  and  she  with  her  face  turn- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  7 

ed  away,  and  her  blue  eyes  fixed  upon  the  far  shore, 
as  if  the  agitation  of  her  whole  frame,  down  to  the 
little  finger-ends  that  were  tapping  the  rail  near  me, 
had  been  caused  by  something  there. 

While  I  was  watching  her,  with  the  deepest  atten 
tion — feeling  toward  her,  and  pitying  her,  as  if  she 
were  a  beloved  sister,  and  greatly  in  need  of  a  brother's 
care  ;  the  queer  fellow  who  had  accosted  me  before, 
and  who  still  kept  marching  to  and  fro  the  whole 
length  of  the  deck,  and  clearing  a  passage  for  himself 
at  every  sweep  of  his  coat  tail,  wide  enough  to  allow 
three  ordinary  men  to  walk  abreast,  now  made  another 
stop  full  before  me,  and  turning  toward  the  father, 
while  he  kept  his  eye  on  something  overboard — I  say ! 
says  he ;  and  having  secured  our  attention,  he  pro 
ceeded — I  say  tho'  !  if  he  don't  sleep  with  one  eye 
open  as  I  said  afore,  which  I  never  like  to  meddle 
with  other  folks's  business,  there's  a  chap  taint  fur  off 
'11  git  a  swop  out  o'  his  hide  yit — slick  as  a  Avhistle  ; 
I  vum  if  he  don't ! 

You  know  consider'ble  don't  ye  ?  said  the  other, 
whom  we  had  all  supposed  to  be  asleep  for  the  last 
hour ;  lifting  his  head  quietly  off  the  chair,  pulling 
away  the  handkerchief  from  his  mouth,  just  far  enough 
to  allow  a  squirt  of  tobacco  spittle  to  escape  through 
his  shut  teeth,  and  eying  the  speaker  with  a  good  natur- 
ed  leer  Whereupon  the  first,  turning  slowly  toward 
him  without  appearing  at  all  disconcerted,  though 
evidently  taken  by  surprise,  began  to  eye  him^in  re 
turn,  inch  by  inch,  as  if  he  were  taking  an  inventory  of 
his  features  and  dress;  and  having  finished  the  survey, 
he  puckered  up  his  mouth,  flung  out  one  of  his  huge 
feet  as  far  it  would  go,  and  then  put  forth  a  question, 


8  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

as  usual  down-east,  by  way  of  reply.  There  is  no 
describing  his  look  or  manner  ;  both  must  be  left  to 
the  reader's  imagination  after  all,  if  he  has  never  hap 
pened  to  see  a  live  Yankee  about  to  engage  another  at 
a  game  of  poke-fun,  as  they  call  it  where  it  flourishes 
most.  Didn't  you  never  hear  tell  o'  them  air  creuked 
sticks  they  cut  away  down-east — so  creuked  they 
wun't  lay  still — hey  ? 

To  this  something  was  said,  which  I  did  not  dis 
tinctly  understand,  though  it  appeared  to  go  to  the 
right  place,  and  set  two  or  three  of  the  bystanders  a 
laughing. 

Wai !  retorted  the  other ;  you  aint  long  for  this 
world,  I  swan  !  judgin'  by  your  tongue,  as  they  do  in 
the  gab  fever. 

Not  long  for  this  world !  retorted  his  antagonist ; 
getting  under  way  rather  slowly,  then  drawing  him 
self  out  like  a  portable  fishing-rod  or  a  telescope,  and 
stretching  himself  up  to  his  full  stature — gaping  and 
throwing  both  arms  abroad  as  far  as  he  could  reach, 
like  one  of  anthropophagi  after  &ies— longer  'n  yourself 
tho'  by  an  inch  and  a  half — and  then  with  a  look 
which  every  body  followed  with  his  eye,  though 
nobody  ventured  to  smile,  he  added — leavin'  out  noses 

Not  by  two  chalks  !  retorted  his  antagonist,  tapping 
the  handle  of  his  own  visage  as  he  spoke,  to  show 
that  he  understood  him  ;  tho'  if  you  had  all  the  kinks 
pulled  out  o'  your  Carcase,  your  ears  buttoned  back, 
and  a  bladder  hauled  over  your  mouth  accordin1  to 
law,  instead  o'  that  air  flashy  handercher,  you'd  be 
ever  so'much  longer  than  ye  air  now,  an'  wuth  more 
too,  by  a  pocky  tarnal  sight.  I'd  give  as  much  agin 
for  ye — with  the  bristles  off. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  9 

This  was  too  much  for  the  gravity  of  my  quaker 
friends,  though  the  handsome  stranger  appeared  to 
enjoy  it  most.  The  old  man  looked  up  with  a  smile  of 
subdued  amazement,  I  laughed  till  my  sides  ached, 
the  fair  girl  (she  proved  to  be  his  grand-daughter  at 
last)  sat  looking  sideways  at  the  two  down-easter?, 
and  struggled  to  suppress  her  mirth,  till  the  tears 
ran  down  her  cheeks  ;  while  they  interchanged  a  look 
of  triumph  with  certain  of  the  bystanders,  and  then 
separated — one  betaking  himself  more  zealously  than 
ever,  and  with  the  most  self-satisfied  air  in  the  world, 
to  his  journeying  fore  and  aft  the  deck,  pretending  not 
to  know  that  he  was  a  subject  of  admiration  to  every 
body  near ;  while  the  other,  as  if  equally  satisfied 
with  the  issue,  having  folded  his  large  yellow  ban 
danna  into  a  new  ahape,  threw  hhuself  limb  by  limb 
over  the  five  chairs,  pretending  to  fall  asleep  again 
directly,  in  spite  of  the  attention  he  received  from  two 
or  three  mischievous  young  dogs,  who  wanted  to  keep 
them  in  play. 

Again  the  conversation  was  renewed  between  the 
the  stranger  and  the  old  man  ;  but  in  a  very  low  voice 
and  with  a  manner  that  indicated  extraordinary  inter 
est  in  both ;  and  at  last  I  heard  the  latter  say — Thy 
notions  are  new  to  me,  and  I  should  be  glad  of  a 
further  acquaintance  when  we  arrive  at  Baltimore — 
or  if  thee  should  ever  come  to  Philadelphia — what 
may  I  call  thy  name  1 

Middleton,  sir — 

And  thy  other  name  1 

Gerard,  sir — Gerard  Middleton ;  bowing  with  his 
large  troubled  eyes  fixed  upon  the  daughter  for  the 
first  time — and  looking  as  if  he  would  look  her 


10  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &-C.    &,C. 

through,  and  read  her  very  heart  without  being  obser 
ved  by  me  or  the  grandfather.  I  saw  instantly  that 
they  had  met  before — and  yet  she  stood  it  bravely — I 
will  say  that  for  her — bravely,  considering  her  youth 
and  her  gentleness.  A  mere  child  in  years,  and  looking 
as  if  butter  wouldn't  melt  in  her  mouth;  and  yet,  there 
she  sat  perfectly  still,  and  suffered  him  to  pore  into  the 
lighted  depth  of  her  own  dear  eyes,  without  flinching 
or  trembling  or  dropping  the  lids ;  and  then  all  at  once, 
when  the  trial  was  over,  and  he  withdrew,  partially 
abashed  I  thought  from  the  encounter,  she  recollected 
herself,  turned  away,  and  blushed  to  her  finger-ends. 
The  next  time  I  saw  her,  she  was  very  pale,  and  her 
lashes  were  wet  with  tears. 

Another  bell — to  remind  us  of  our  passage-money ; 
and  having  run  forward  to  see  what  the  matter  was,  I 
did  not  immediately  return;  and  when  I  did — but  that 
will  do  for  another  chapter, 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  confusion  attendant  on  settling  for  the  passage 
having  subsided,  and  the  trouble  about  the  machinery 
being  pretty  well  over,  I  returned  to  my  favorite  station 
by  the  fair  quakeress ;  where  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
studying  Middleton  yet  more  at  my  leisure.  He  stood 
near  me,  leaning  over  the  rail  and  playing  with  the  bolt 
of  the  gangway —I  spoke  to  him  twice  about  the  danger, 
and  he  thanked  me,  though  he  persisted  nevertheless, 
and  at  one  time  the  slightest  lurch  of  the  vessel  would 
have  precipitated  him  into  the  sea — yet  there  he  stood, 
watching  the  beautiful  countenance  before  him,  the 
placid  mouth  and  the  happy  eyes  turned  up  toward 
her  dear  old  grandfather,  and  occasionally  wandering 
toward  mine,  (though  I  am  sure  she  never  saw  me 
after  Middleton  crossed  her  path,)  whenever  he  ap 
peared  in  a  revery,  or  was  looking  another  way.  I 
saw  now  that  he  was  rather  tall,  and  very  thin ;  a  de 
cided  southerner  in  his  carriage,  indolent,  haughty  and 
graceful — somewhat  swarthy  too  about  the  uncovered 
part  of  his  face,  with  a  very  intellectual  forehead — 
the  temples  were  absolutely  transparent — a  woman's 
mouth,  and  the  most  effeminate-looking  hands  I  ever 
saw.  I  never  was  half  so  much  puzzled  before — what 
to  make  of  him,  I  could'nt  tell  for  a  long  while.  His 
black  joyful  eyes  and  haughty  lip,  did'nt  belong  far 
enough  north  for  the  fine  chisseling  of  the  other  fea 
tures,  and  the  singular  beauty  of  his  language.  But 
when  I  discovered,  as  I  did  before  we  parted,  that  he 


12  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &.C.  <fcc. 

was  born  of  a  New-England  mother,  remarkable  for 
her  beauty  and  accomplishment,  and  that  his  father 
was  a  Georgia  planter,  who  died  in  a  duel,  which  re 
sulted  in  the  premature  birth  of  his  only  child — this 
very  youth — and  that  after  travelling  in  the  south  of 
Europe,  he  had  been  educated  in  the  north  for  the  very 
purpose  of  counteracting  his  fiery  temper,  and  fortify 
ing  his  brave  lineage  by  other  and  better  principles 
than  he  had  imbibed  in  the  south,  I  had  a  key  to  the 
whole  mystery  ;  and  from  that  hour  the  heart  of 
Gerard  Middleton  lay  naked  before  me.  I  read  it  like 
a  map. 

Finding  I  had  no  business  there — the  grand 
father  being  fully  competent  for  the  protection  of  the 
child — I  bore  away  for  the  walking  down-easter — the 
man  with  a  nose  like  a  sword-fish,  and  begged  him, 
half  out  breath  already  with  no  less  than  four  attempts 
to  bring  him  to  before  I  succeeded,  to  have  compas 
sion  on  me,  and  tell  me  what  the — gulp  ! — he  meant 
by  the  caution  he  had  favored  me  with,  so  early  in  the 
day.  But  he  Only  walked  so  much  the  faster, 
evading  all  my  questions  so  adroitly,  and  with  so  much 
ease  to  himself — now  by  a  swing  oi  his  coat-tail,  which 
struck  me  so  heavily  as  to  satisfy  me  that  he  carried 
weight,  like  John  Gilpin's  nag,  and  that  people  had 
good  reason  for  keeping  out  of  his  way,  and  now  by  a 
flourish  of  his  enormous  pocket-handkerchief,  that  I 
began  to  feel  rather  vexed  with  him. 

Inacon-siderbleof  a  hurry  jess  now,  said  he — as  if 
he  expected  to  arrive  at  Baltimore  so  much  the  sooner 
for  every  step  he  took,  though  we  lay  at  the  time — 

As  idle  as  a  painted  ship, 

Upon  a  painted  ocean — 

Smashin'  round  like  a  house  afire    a — -a — a,  he  added 


THE    DOWN    EASTER?,  &C.    &-C.  13 

passing  me  so  swiftly  that  I  lost  a  part  of  his  remark, 
and  he  the  whole  of  my  answer.  And  when  I  lay  too> 
waiting  to  fire  into  him  as  he  wore  upon  his  heel  or 
stood  away  upon  a  new  tack  ;  another  and  another 
word,  accompanied  by  a  significant  gesture,  reached 
my  ear,  and  then — away  he  would  go  again !  right 
before  the  wind  !  wing  and  wing,  all  sails  out,  the 
ballast  shifting  at  every  roll,  and  talking  as  fast  as 
ever,  though  I  could'nt  make  out  one  Avord  in  forty. 

No  time  to  talk  now  !  dont  ye  see  where  we  air  1 — 
right  in  the  jaws  o'  the  inimy  ;  have  to  fight  yit,  I 
vum  if  we  dont !  no  runnin'  away  here,  rot  an'  tarna 
tion  seize  the  everlastin'  steam-boats  ! ;  you  seem  to 
be  a  ketle  ryled  yourself — dont  wonder---dod  burn  an' 
butter  my  hide  ;  if  you  ever  ketch  me  aboard  o'  steam 
boat  agin,  that's  all !  I  know  what  you  want !  Stan' 
out  o'  my  way — I'm  gettin'  ready  for  a  jump — 

A  jump  !  what  the  devil  do  you  mean  1 — 

Yis,  a  jump — right  overboard  !  smash  !  the  mo 
ment  I  see  the  inimy  ;  you  may  do  as  you  like,  you 
and  the  rest  o'  the  passengers,  but  I'm  agoin'  to  swim 
ashore — hullow  !  look  o'  there! — what's  that-o'-com- 
in'  up  there  !  Aint  them  the  boats  ?— I  say,  Cap'n 
Trip  !  hullow,  Cap'n  Trip !  aint  them  the  ininay's 
boats  ? 

Captain  Trip  had  been  reconnoitering  before  ;  and 
arriving  aft  with  his  spy-glass,  he  assured  us  we  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  that  quarter,  even  if  it  should 
prove  to  be  the  boats  of  the  enemy  ;  as  long  before 
they  could  pull  up  with  us,  we  should  be  at  work  under 
a  double  pressure. 

Dont  believe  a  word  on't,  said  the  Yankee — no 
business  to  cone  out,  an'  I  toll  him  so  when  I  wanted 
B 


14  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

to  walk  to  Havre  de  Grace — meachin'  feller  !  never 
was  half  so  mad  afore — ryled  all  over,  inside  and  out. 

Ryled  ? 

To  be  sure  ! — ryled — ructious — there  ye  go  agin  ! 
right  off  the  reel,  jest  as  eff  you  never  hcerd  o'  bein 
ryled  afore  ?  Hullow  there  !  I  say  you,  mister  ! 
bawling  away  like  a  two-and-forty-pounder  at  a  mulatto 
who  was  righting  the  baggage  forward  with  a  hand 
spike,  and  trying  to  get  some  of  the  best  of  it  under 
cover.  Mind  how  ye  jounce  that  air  chist  about! 
Have  to  pay  for  all  ye  break  o'  mine,  I  tell  ye  now  ! 
An'  I  say,  neighbor,  (turning  to  me)  I  take  you  for 
a  witness.  Mind  what  ye're  at  now  !  never  seed 
sich  a  feller  since  I  breathed  the  breath  o'  life  ;  no 
sprawl  in  ye — great  slammerkin'  good  for  nothin' — 
there  now  !  What  did  I  tell  ye  ! 

One  of  the  boxes  had  pitched  over  upon  a  black  fel 
low  below,  who  cleared  himself  with  a  spring  and  a 
howl,  and  began  leaping  about  the  deck  with  his  foot  in 
his  hand,  his  enormous  mouth  as  wide  open  as  it  would 
stretch,  and  the  tears  running  down  his  cheeks — 

There  now  !  and  away  bounced  the  Yankee  to  his 
relief;  catching  him  up  in  his  arms  as  if  he  had  been 
a  child,  scolding  him  heartily  all  the  time  ;  and  laying 
him  out  over  the  bales  of  goods,  without  appearing  to 
see  the  strange  faces  that  gathered  about  him,  or  to 
care  a  fig  for  their  profound  astonishment,  he  began 
pulling  and  hauling  the  leg  about,  now  this  way  and 
now  that,  and  wrenching  the  foot  first  one  way  and 
then  another,  as  if  he  would  twist  it  off,  while  the 
sufferer  lay  grinding  his  teeth  and  uttering  an  occa 
sional  boo-hoo  ! — boo-hoo  ! 

Boohoo  ! — boohoo  ! — cried  the  Yankee,  who  had 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  15 

now   satisfied   himself  as    to    the  state  of  the  case. 
What's  the  use  o'  boo-hooin,  I  tell  ye  !     Keep  a  stiff 
upper  lip  ;  no  bones  broke — don't  I  know  ?     Seventh 
son  of  a  seventh  son — sarved  ye  right  though — aint 
hurt  half  bad  enough — never  hearn  tell  o'  the  rain 
water  doctor  ?  some  calls  him  the  screw-augur  doctor, 
an'  some  the  steam-doctor — boo-oo — boo-hoo — what 
are  ye  afeard  on  ?     Got  the  stuff  till  cure  ye,  if  ye'd 
jammed  your  leg  off — take  the  bruise  right  out  by  the 
roots — look  here !  whipping  out  a  large  box,  with  a 
lead-colored  pigment,  blue  pill  or  opodeldoc  perhaps, 
or  perhaps  the  scraping  of  a  carriage-wheel.     That's 
the  stuff  for  corns,  I  tell  ye  !  capital  too  for  razor- 
straps  !  addressing  himself  now  to  one  and  now  to  an 
other  of  the  bystanders,  and  either  by  accident  or  de 
sign  so  as  to  hit  rather  hard  here  and  there,  and  raise 
a  good-natured  laugh  at  the  expense  of  a  little  some 
body  with  pinched  feet,  and  a  cross-looking  old  woman 
with  a  beard.     Clear  grit  as  ever  you  see  !  gut  sech  a 
thing  as  a  jacknife  about  ye  marm  ? — to  the  latter,  who 
stood  stooping  over  the  box  with  a  most  inquisitive 
air,  eying  him  through  her  golden-bowed  spectacles, 
and  occasionally  touching  the  contents  of  the  box,  and 
then  smelling  her  fingers  in  a  way  that  he  did'nt  appear 
to  relish — with  a  red-haired  girl  in  very  tight  shoes 
on  one  arm,  and  a  sleepy-looking  coxcomb  with  mus- 
tachios  on  the  other — clear  grit,  I  tell  ye  ! — take  a 
notch   out   of  a  broad  axe  ! — whoa  !    to  the  nigger, 
who-a  !  there,  there  ! — best  furnitoor-polish  ever  you 
come  across,  mam.     There,  there,  stiudy— stiddy  !--- 
don't  kick — plastering  tire  foot  all  over  with  his  furni 
ture-polish,  and  wrapping  it  up  with  a  bandage  of  loose 
oakum — ah,  hah  !  begin  to  feel  nicely  aready,  don't 
it,  mister  ? 


16  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

O,  yessa  massa,  groaned  the  poor  negro — him  peel 
berry  moodch  nicaly ;  taaikee  massa — berry  mudch — 
boo-hoo  ! — gorrigh  I 

Told  ye  so  !  slickest  staff  ever  you  see,  aint  it  mis 
ter  ?  snatching  up  a  rag  of  tarred  canvass  and  a  bun-eh 
of  spun-yarn  that  somebody  he-Id  near — good  for  the 
lockjaw — tried  it  on  myself ;  nobody  talks  faster  'an  I 
do  now,  do  they  marm  ?  fuss  chop  too  for  yeller-fever, 
an  moths,  and  lip-salve,  an  bed-bugs — try  a  leetle 
on't,  mister,  (to  the  youth  in  moustachios)  or  maybe 
you'd  like  a  box  or  yer  own — some  call  it  a  new  sort 
0'  tooth  paste  with  more  varter  in't  than  nineteen  sea 
hosses ;  only  a  quarter  dollar  a  box  at  retail,  or  two 
dollars  a  dozen  box  in  all,  and  take  your  pay  in  most 
any  thing  marm,  (to-  the  red  haired-  girl)  boxes  worth 
half  the  money,  and  more  too,  marm — take  *Tem  back  at 
double  price,  if  you  aint  satisfied,  if  I  ever  c»me  across 
you  agin — sell  ye  the  privilege  right  out  for  any  o* 
the  states,  so't  your  son  there  could  make  his  fortin' 
by  sellin'  it  for  bears-greese  ;  don't  kick,  I  tell  ye  ! — 
to  tho  nigger — sartain  cure  for  the  itch — help  yourself, 
mister — why  if  you'll  believe  me,  but  I  know  you  wunt, 
I've  seen  it  cure  a  whole  neighborhood  so  privately, 
they  did'nt  know  it  themselves — chincough — striped- 
fever  and  back-bitin'  to  boot,  only  by  rubbin'  it  over 
the  minister's  wig — mortal  fine  stuff  for  the  hair  ! — 
turns  it  all  manner  o'  colors — there  !  letting  the  limb 
go  and  lifting  the  poor  man  up  with,  a  bandage  on  it 
about  as  big  as  a  moderate-sized  pillow — see  there  T 
enough's  enough,  I  tell  ye — boo-hoo — boo-hoo  !  If 
yer  don't  stop  your  blartin'  an'  boo-hooin,  you'll 
take  cold  inside,  and  that'll  take  all  the  varter  out  o* 
the  greese — ^and  then,  arter  that's  done,  I  defy  yer  to> 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  17 

stop — I  call  it  greese  ;  but  its  no  more  greese  than  yon 
air,  (to  a  very  fat  man  who  had  been  laughing  at  all 
the  others  in  succession — it  was  their  turn  now)  an' 
what's  more  (to  the  nigger)  your  foot  '11  turn  all  the 
colors  of  a  peacocks'-tail. 

How  would  it  answer  in  a  case  of  yellow  fever  ? 
enquired  the  fat  man. 

Not  knowin'  cant  say — suppose  you  try  it  with  a 
question  or  two  yourself  ?  But  I've  known  it  tried 
out  an'  out  with  the  slow  fever  ? 

On  a  four-wheeled  one-horse  dearbon,  hey  ?  said 
somebody  near  me.  Ah,  and  what's  more,  on  a  fever 
an'  ager;  and  it  cured  'eni  both  afore  five  o'clock,  an* 
gut  all  cleared  away  by  supper  time. 

And  ready  for  another,  hey  ?  continued  the  same 
voice. 

Here  the  poor  negro  began  to  hobble  off,  saying  as 
he  moved  away — Tanka  massa,  tanka  berry  mush. 

I  say  tho},  mister,  cried  the  Yankee,  calling  after 
him — might  ask  what's  to  pay  ;  or  buy  a  box  o'  the 
hair-powder — that's  the  least  you  can  do. 

Why  lor  a  bressa  massa  ;  massa  so  good,  he  neber 
tink  o'  takin'  notin'  o'  poor  nigger,  hey  ? 

Try  me. 

I  sholl  dat  !  cried  the  poor  fellow,  beginning  to 
whistle,  possum  up  a  gum  tree — ope  he  go  !  ope  he  go  ! 
with  one  hand  foraging  at  will  in  the  pockets  of  his  old 
tarred  trowsers,  and  the  other,  perhaps  out  of  sheer 
sympathy,  sprawling  about  in  the  matted  wool  over 
head,  the  fingering  whereof  by  a  nigger  implies  great 
inward  perplexity. 

Meanwhile   the   down-easier  had   got  under  way 

again ;  giving  me  a  nod  as  he  went  by,  to  make  chase. 
B2 


18  THE    DOWN    EA.9TER9,    &C.    &C. 

But  I  had  satisfied  myself  on  that  point  before — his 
long  legs  were  altogether  too  muchi  for  me ;,  and  my 
only  chance  appeared  to  lie  in  raking  him  as  he  yaw 
ed,  or  waylaying  him  on  a  return  passage.  O,  that  you 
could  see  him  !  his  newly-paved  boots  falling  on  the 
deck  at  every  step  like  a  machine  driving  piles,  or  a 
beetle  shod  with  sole-leather  ;  and  his  pockets  rattling 
as  he  drove  by,  hitting  first  one  person  and  then  an 
other,  like  a  newly-freighted  waggon  finding  its  way 
downhill  backwards  without  a  driver. 

All  in  good  part  !  said  he,  talking  faster  than  ever 
mortal  talked  before,  with  the  wind  right  in  his  teeth, 
so  that  I  lost  t,hree  words  out  of  four,  and  had  to  guess 
at  the  fourth.  Forgit  and  forgive,  that's  my  way, 
which  if  you  dont  git  swapped  out  o'  somthin'  hansum 
I  miss  my  guess,  that's  all!  can't  you  see!  wears  a 
putty  clever  coat  to  be  sure  ;  but  when  ye  git  a  chance, 
jest  take  a  peep  into  the  in'ards  or  that  air  umberill  o' 
his'n  with  a  cloth  over  it — why  its  nothin'  in  this  world 
but  a  frame  o'  sticks  'at  he  swapped  for  at  French- 
town — been  whipped  into  hoss  hair  long  ago,  if  it 
had'nt  been  kept  for  a  trade.  But  he  knows  how  the 
cat  jumps,  I  tell  ye — cute  as  nutmeg — brought  up  on 
ten-penny  nails,  pynted  at  both  eends ;  why  that  air 
hat  o'  his'n  'tyou  see  there,  with  a  new  hat-case,  bran 
fire  new,  see  how  he  keeps  muchin'  i,t — whenever  you 
look  that  way  ;  why  that's  nothin'  arter  all  but  an  old 
three  quarter  dollar  swap,  with  the  wool  off,  an'  more 
spots  on  the  brim  than,  you  could  try  out  in  half  a 
year — 

No! 

As  true  as  you're  alive — or,  shake  a  stick  at  be 
tween  now  an'  everlastin'. 


THE    tfOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &,C.  19 

Pray  tell  me,  said  I,  as  he  hove  in  sight  again, — 
what  I  have  to  fear  from  that — ah — he  was  already 
out  of  hearing. 

Why  as  to  that  question,  said  he,  some  fire 
minutes  after,  when  we  happened  to  cross  one  an 
other's  route  within  speaking  distance ;  my  old 
granfather,  he  said  to  me,  says  he,  more  'n  forty 
years  ago — here  he  made  a  full  stop  for  a  moment 
with  his  eye  upon  two  other  negroes  who  were  at  work 
with  the  baggage,  and  then,  sweeping  by  me  as  before, 
I  lost  the  remainder  of  his  reply  ;  and  the  next  words 
that  reached  me  were,. — don't  want  yer  money  ;  only 
did  it  to  try  yer — not  knowin'  cant  say — never  thought 
much  o'  Jedediah — do  you  chaw  ?. 

I  stared  and  was  about  to  answer,  but  I  was  too  late. 
He  had  gone  by,  with  the  poor  old  negro  halting  after 
him  and  holding  out  a  handful  of  change.  We  were 
under  way  once  more,  and  there  was  a  great  bustle 
midships — and  I  felt  the  breeze  blowing  fresh — and 
heard  the  sail  run  up  with  a  pleasure  that  I  wondered 
at.  If  I  had  been  becalmed  for  a  month  on  a  voyage 
to  Europe  I  could  not  have  enjoyed  the  motion  of  the 
vessel  more— springing  forward  with  new  life  and  a 
preternatural  vigor,  as  the  sea  roughened  with 
the  evening  breeze  and  gradually  darkened  about  our 
path,  over  which  the  white  foam  poured  with  a  deluge 
of  lustre  from  our  wheels  and  prow. 

I  had  lost  myself  entirely  again,  and  was  wandering 
away  I  know  not  where — over  the  dim  blue  waters  ; 
among  the  bright  isles  of  the  sea — far,  far  away,  when 
I  was  brought  suddenly  to  my  senses  by  a  familiar 
slap  on  the  back.  My  teeth  rattled  again  at  the  salu 
tation.  It  was  the  down-easter.  I  say,  give  us  a  nip 


20  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

o'  that  air  snuff  o'  yourn,  't  I  see  ye  have,  down  be 
low  there,  will  ye  ?  said  he,  rounding  to  as  he  finished, 
and  resting  on  his  heel  for  a  moment  like  a  fine  ship 
that  has  been  struck  by  a  flaw  in  the  midst  of  a  capital 
manoeuvre.  Putty  good  o'  the  sort,  hey,  what  there 
is  o'nt — an'  enough  on't  too,  such  as  it  is;  what  d'ye 
give  a  bladder  ? 

A  bladder  !  Oh — ah — I  understand  you  now  :  I 
dont  buy  it  by  the  bladder  ; 

O,  you  don'-tf  do  ye  ?  how  then  ? 

By  the  box. 

By  the  box !  you  don't  say  so  ! 

But  I  do  say  so. 

Oh — ah — whoolsale  ?  Comes  cheaper  when  you 
lay  it  in  by  the  box,  hey  ?  Pulling  out  a  piece  of  rag 
ged  brown-paper  from  his  coat  pocket — a  store  house 
of  odds  and  ends,  of  slops  and  fragments,  blackball  and 
wafer-boxes,  with  a  bunch  of  twine,  a  gimlet  or  two, 
and  a  leather  strap ;  and  having  spread  the  paper  in 
the  palm  of  his  hand,  he  began  helping  himself  pinch 
after  pinch,  till  he  had  nearly  emptied  the  box  and 
filled  the  paper  ;  when  seeing  what  he  took  for  a 
beetle  or  a  cockroach  at  the  bottom,  he  dropped  the 
last  pinch  as  if  he  had  burnt  his  fingers,  and  cried  out 
— lord  a  massy  !  what  is  it ! 

Where  !  where  ! — cried  two  or  three  persons  near 
me,  all  speaking  together,  and  looking  toward  the 
quarter  where  the  British  were  expected.  No  wonder 
they  were  half  frightened  out  of  their  wits  ;  I  should 
have  been  frightened  too,  had  I  not  perceived  the  cause 
of  his  consternation,  as  he  stood  pointing  at  the  box, 
and  making  the  most  horrible  faces. 

O — that's  a  bean,  said  I. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  21' 

You  dont  say  so  !  what's  it  good  for  ? 

To  scent  the  snuff. 

Why  how  ye  talk  ! — pulling  it  slowly  out  with  his 
forefinger  and  thumb,  and  feeling  it  cautiously — 
Would'nt  a  cockroach  do  ?  The  man  evidently  had 
his  misgivings,  and  like  a  true  down-easter,  was  trying 
to  turn  it  off  with  a  little  over-acting  ;  and  then  after 
eyeing  it  awhile  at  arm's  length,  so  as  to  make  every 
body  that  stood  near  doubt  whether  he  was  not  pre 
tending  ignorance,  he  began  to  rub  it  slowly  and  cau 
tiously  over  the  tip-end  of  his  tremendous  nose — I 
never  did  see  such  a  nose  !  that's  a  fact — it  was  about 
the  color  and  very  much  the  size  of  a  long-necked 
winter-squash — the  more  I  saw  of  it  the  more  I  was 
troubled,  and  I  saw  more  and  more  of  it  every  time  I 
looked  that  way — no,  no,  I  never  did  see  such  a  nose  ! 
and  then,  having  smelt  it,  he  gave  it  a  bite  with  his  foi  e 
teeth — I'm  not  speaking  of  the  nose  now — heaven 
forbid  I — that  belongs  to  another  paragraph — and  then 
before  I  could  possibly  interfere,  with  his  grinders  ; 
my  attention  being  diverted  at  the  time  by  a  half- 
smothered  girlish  giggle.  On  turning  my  head,  I 
found  all  eyes  upon  him,  as  he  stood  there  making 
mouths  at  the  bean,  preparatory  to  trying  the  flavor  in 
the  way  mentioned  above*  I  was  ready  to  burst  witti 
laughter  and  vexation,  till  I  saw  that  she  understood 
the  matter  properly  j  though  I  was  not  altogether 
satisfied  I  confess,  when  I  turned  that  way  and  saw 
her  thinking  of  the  stranger  with  the  passionate  lip 
and  the  imperious  eye.  That  she  was  thinking  of  him 
I  knew  the  moment  I  saw  her  face  ;  and  she  knew  that 
I  knew  it ;  for  she  never  lifted  her  eyes  to  mine  af- 
terwardsi  but  sat  there  trembling,  with  one  snowy 


22  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

hand  lying  so  quietly  in  her  lap,  and  the  other  stretc'h- 
ed  out  toward  me  so  helplessly,  that  I  longed  to  take 
it  into  mine  with  the  clasp  of  a  brother — of  an  elder 
not  'a  younger  brother — and  say  to  her :  be  of  good 
cheer  maiden  !  I  will  never  betray  thee  !  But  how  could 
I  ?  It  was  not  yet  dark  ;  and  we  were  not  alone  ;  and 
perhaps  if  I  had — for  such  things  have  been — perhaps 
I  might  have  had  my  ears  boxed  for  my  sympathy,  or 
a  small  sword  flourished  athwart  my  eyes,  brother  or 
no  brother,  some  cold  frosty  morning.  It  makes  my 
teeth  chatter  to  think  of  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HAVING  tasted  the  bean,  chawed  it,  and  smelt  of  it 
inside  and  out,  the  down-easter  shook  his  head,  an-d 
spitting  once  or  twice  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has 
heard  of  the  biter  bit,  and  feels  rather  perplexed  on 
the  whole,  take  it  by-and-large,  was  about  returning 
the  bean  to  the  box  ;  and  would  have  done  so  I  am 
sure,  had  I  not  turned  away  in  a  hurry,  snapped  the 
lid  with  a  decided  emphasis,  and  begged  him  to  keep 
it  to  scent  the  snuff  with  which  he  had  in  the  paper. 

Wai,  said  he,  not  at  all  embarrassed  by  the  proposi 
tion  or  the  look  I  favored  him  with — Wai !  seein'  'ts 
you,  I  dont  care  'f  I  do — for  between  you'  an'  me  an' 
the  post,  I've  taken  a  sort  of  a  likin'  to  you — rather  a 
sorter  than  a  sorter  not — I  vow  if  I  haint !  and  that's 
a  slum-fac  (a  solemn  fact  I  believe  he  meant — a  favor 
ite  phrase  with  him) ;  for  I  guess  you're  a  putty  clever 
sort  of  a  feller  notwithstanding — rather  equivocal 
thought  I,  as  he  proceeded.  What  d'ye  have  to  pay 
for  sech  beans  as  them,  hey  ?  Where  d'ye  git  'em  ? 
What  do  they  cost?  How  do  ye  lay  'em  in — by 
weight  or  measure  ? 

By  tale,  said  I. 

Oh — laying  his  finger  along  the  side  of  his  nose  and 
trying  to  look  arch  at  the  old  quaker. 

They  are  worth  sixpence  a  piece,  I  added. 

You  don't  say  so  !  sixpence  a  piece !  beats  all 
nater  !  By  jingo,  if  I  dont  plant  this,  right  away — do 
ye  think  'till  mind  a  scratch  or  two  like  that  ?  showing 


24  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.   &C. 

me  the  marks  of  his  fore  teeth,  and  rubbing  the  bean 
with  his  cuff — did'nt  go  more  'n  half  way  to  the  heart 
— sixpence  a  piece  !  York  money  though  ? 

No — Massachusetts— New  England — Virginia  cur 
rency. 

Wai,  if  ever  !  May  be  you've  got  some  to  sell  ? — 
rather  guess  ye  have  ? 

No. 

Like  to  buy,  may  be  ?  What'll  ye  give  a  thousand — 
cash? 

A  thousand  !  why  bless  your  heart,  I — 

Or  truck  out  o'  the  store  at  cash  prices — hullow  ! 

We  were  interrupted  by  a  great  noise,  and  a  cry  of, 
look  out  below  there  !  and  the  next  moment  a  couple 
of  long  chests  painted  sky-blue.,  and  flowered  off  in 
great  style  with  a  border  of  brimstone-yellow,  pitched 
headlong  from  the  very  tip»top  of  the  luggage  ;  and 
the  end  of  one  being  stove,  and  the  top  flying  off,  the 
deck  was  instantly  littered  with  all  sorts  of  down-east 
travelling  haberdashery — half  a  bushel  of  dried  apples 
on  strings,  a  quantity  of  blue-and-white  woollen  yarn, 
with  sundry  articles  of  clothing,  which  had  seen  their 
best  days  long  and  long  before,  a  heap  of  dough-nuts, 
a  new  bridle,  part  of  a  sage-cheese,  three  or  four 
nests  of  sugar-boxes,  a  wooden  clock-face  and  a  pair 
of  spurs  with  enormous  rowels,  were  among  the  arti 
cles  I  remember. 

There  now !  cried  my  companion,  you've  jess 
done  it !  I  told  you  so — did'nt  I  mister  ?  (turning  to 
me  for  proof)  did'nt  I  tell  you  so.  when  that  are  gen 
tleman  was  a  cypherin'  about  there  with  the  wooden 
crow-bar,  among  all  them  air  chists  and  boxes? 

The  gentleman  he  alluded  to  was  the  steward  ;  a 
handsome,  well-behaved,  well-dressed  mulatto. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,   &C.    &C.  25 

Never  you  mind  tho' ;  I'll  make  him  pay  for  it ;  or 
Cap'n  Trip  shall  make  the  damage  good  afore  I  leave 
the  vessel — I'm  goin'  right  away  to  Washintin',  and 
its  wuth  five  dollars  a  day  to  me,  every  day  't  I 
lose — 

A  representative  perhaps  ? 

A  representatyve  ? — oh — no  !  somethin'  more'n 
that  comes  too,  I  rutner  guess — 

But  you've  paid  your  passage,  I  believe — 

So  I  have,  by  jingo  !  What  a  fool  I  was  to  be 
sure  !  but  never  you  mind  though — law  is  law — and 
I'll  have  my  money's  worth  out  o'  Cap'n  Trip  afore 
I've  done  with  him — you'll  be  an  evidence  for  me, 
wunt  ye  ?  Do  as  much  for  you  any  time — ye  will 
now,  wunt  ye  ? — say  whether  ye  will  or  no ;  if  ye 
don't,  I'll  have  ye  summoned  right  away,  and  here's 
your  money  all  ready  for  ye,  slapping  his  pockets — 
for  travelling  fees  an'  tendance.  Burn  my  buttons 
if  I  don't  fix  'em  !  Cap'n  Trip  !  I  say — Cap'n  Trip  ! 

And  here,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to  the 
trumpery  that  lay  exposed  upon  the  deck  to  every 
body's  observation,  off  he  started  after  the  captain, 
calling  upon  me  by  name  and  all  the  others  in  the 
lump,  to  bear  witness  that  he  had  abandoned  for  a 
total  loss,  and  vowing  he  would'nt  go  nigh  the  chist 
nor  touch  to,  till  he'd  come  to  a  fair  understanding 
with  Captain  Trip. 

Here  a  grave-looking  little  personage  who  stood  in  his 
way,  and  whom  I  had  seen  prompting  him  a  moment 
before,  took  the  liberty  to  follow  the  yankee  a  few  steps, 
when  the  latter  turned  upon  him  with  a  look  of  dis 
may,  and  stood  staring  over  his  head  at  me,  while  the 
other  went  on  with  a  sort  of  law-lecture  about  gene- 


26  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

ral-average,  common-carriers,  bailment,  &c.  <fcc. — 
till  the  down-easter  begun  to  grow  rather  shy  of  him, 
and  buttoned  up  his  coat,  and  tucked  away  his  watch- 
chain,  and  crammed  both  hands  into  his  pockets. 
Perhaps  he  took  him  for  a  lawyer — but  why  conceal 
his  watch-chain  ?  why  screw  up  his  mouth,  and  look 
about  him,  as  if  he  expected  to  lose  a  tooth  or  two  by 
sleight  of  hand  ? 

No  sooner  had  he  left  me,  than  I  stole  up  to  the 
seat  I  had  previously  occupied,  with  a  determination 
to  make  sure  of  it  for  the  remainder  of  the  passage, 
when,  lo  !  I  found  another  in  possession;  a  little 
dapper  Bostonian,  who,  kept  a  store  as  they  call  it, 
where  every  shop  is  a  store,  every  stick  a  pole,  every 
stone  a  rock,  every  stall  a  factory,  and  every  goose  a 
swan,  sold  tape  which  he  imported  on  his  own  account, 
dabbled  in  literature,  puffed  poetry  for  the  North- 
American-Review,  and  the  North-American-Review 
for  the  newspapers  ;  at  his  elbow  was  another,  an 
educated  and  travelled  Yankee — cold,  supercilious 
and  stiff — standing  like  the  statue  of  man  before  the 
loveliest  of  God's  creatures,  and  talking  like  a  book, 
even  to  his  washerwoman.  I  could  not  help  observ 
ing  them  both  ;  for  each  was  a  fair  specimen  of  what 
are  called  the  talented  and  gifted  of  their  several 
classes.  Both  avoided  the  brave  old  English  word 
guess,  even  where  no  other  would  serve  their  pur 
pose — trying  thereby  to  conceal  their  lineage,  and 
substituting  for  it,  all  sorts  of  awkward  and  silly  cir 
cumlocution,  like  most  of  our  countrymen  who  have 
heard  that  to  guess  betrays  the  Yankee,  or  at  least 
the  New-Englander  :  and  so  it  does,  where  they  make 
use  of  it  to  express  absolute  certainty,  that  is  indeed 
characteristic  of  a  New-Englander.  He  will  say,  when 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  27 

the  thermometer  is  five  degrees  below  zero — Wai,  I 
guess  this  is  putty  cole  weather ;  and  if  you  ask  him  if 
that  house  yonder  belongs  to  him,  he  will  answer — Wai, 
I  rather  guess  it  dooze.  But  in  forty-nine  cases  out  of 
fifty,  the  rudest  Yankee  will  employ  the  word  guess 
after  the  manner  of  the  best  old  English  authors ;  while 
the  educated  Yankee  and  the  Southerner,  will  resort 
to  such  absurd  and  bastard  phraseology  as  the  follow 
ing — to  prove  they  are  not  Yankees,  forsooth ! — I 
take  it ;  I  presume  ;  I  conjecture ;  I  fancy  ;  I  imagine  ; 
I  believe ;  I  anticipate  ;  I  contemplate  ;  I  reckon ; 
I  calculate,  &c.  &c.  betraying  the  fo  rmer  shib 
boleth  nevertheless,  even  where  most  careful  about 
hadn't  ought  and  legis '-latoore,  dooze  and  Fellydel- 
phy,  by  talking  through  the  nose  in  jets,  by  whimper 
ing  at  the  end  of  a  long  sentence,  and  by  saying  / 
want  you  should  go  with  me,  or  some  other  pre-emi 
nent  Yankeeism,  while  counterfeiting  the  manners 
and  speech  of  the  South,  and  affecting  to  pity  his 
New-England  brethern  for  their  strongly-marked  and 
hopeless  barbarism  of  language  and  behavior — there  ! 
that'll  do  for  the  present.  . 

By  and  by,  the  former  went  so  far  as  to  signify 
thai  he  made  his  own  poetry  ;  and  being  sorely  per 
suaded  by  a  mischievious  girl  who  had  joined  the 
group,  and  by  the  little  creature  who  had  so  interested 
me — zounds  !  what  a  mystery  your  innocent  women 
are  !  They  may  do  just  what  they  like,  with  absolute 
impunity  ! — he  was  obliging  enough  to  recite  a  copy 
of  verses,  with  a  low  sweet  musical  cadence,  which 
went  to  the  heart  of  all  the  women  that  heard  it. 
Having  somehow  or  other  forgotten  a  word,  he  thought 
proper  to  refer  to  a  common-place  book  he  had  with 
him,  lettered  ORIGINAL  POETRY  on  both  sides,  in  large 


28  THE    DOWN    EASTER8,    &C.    &.C. 

handsome  letters — on  opening  it,  I  read  the  title  of 
the  piece,  4  written  by  himself,'  and  surely  never 
was  title  more  appropriate,  and  somebody  at  my 
elbow  appeared  to  think  so  too,  for  he  read  it  aloud 
with  an  emphasis  that  proved  to  be  irresistible — 'Lines 
beneath  a  nosegay' — 

The  little  rogue  took  the  idea,  and  laughed  heartily 
before  she  had  time  to  turn  away  her  face,  or  to  stuff 
a  handkerchief  into  her  mouth  ;  and  I — what  shall  I 
•ay  ? — I  who  had  already  begun  to  think  her  eyes  not 
more  than  half  so  blue  as  they  were  when  we  first 
came  aboard  and  sat  together  looking  into  the  deep 
still  mirror  below  ;  her  stature  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
rather  diminutive  ;  her  mouth  somewhat  large,  though 
I  do  love  a  generous  mouth,  and  her  unspeakable 
taciturnity,  the  best  proof  she  had  given  or  could  give 
of  her  good  sense — I  who  had  begun  to  think  thus  of 
her,  became  instantaneously  converted  to  a  contrary 
belief,  by  the  sudden  burst  of  girlish  hilarity,  the  ring 
ing  joyousness,  and  what  I  should  call  the  unexpect 
edness  of  her  laugh.  Her  eyes  were  bluer  than  ever — 
her  mouth  perfect — her  good  sense  altogether  won 
derful — and  her  shape  that  of  the  winged  women  I 
had  courted  in  my  youth.  Ah — ha  !  said  I  to  myself, 
as  she  laughed  all  over — I  am  sure  she  did,  "  for  it 
went  a-ripplingto  my  finger-ends" — who  is  there  with 
courage  to  deny  to  that  girl  an  exquisite  perception  of 
truth  and  humour,  and  a  strong  sense  of  th*  ridicu 
lous  ? 

But  of  whose  truth  and  humour  ? — I  looked  up  to 
see  for  myself;  and  there  stood  another  Yankee  as  I 
live !  close  at  her  elbow  and  looking  over  her  shoul 
der,  with  all  the  ease  of  an  old  acquaintance.  And 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C     &C.  29 

what  was  harder  for  me  to  put  up  with — she  did  not 
appear  to  observe  him.  Oh  Pharaoh!  Pharaoh!  thought 
I,  if  they  had  only  thought  of  trying  thee  with  New- 
Englanders  !  In  the  course  of  a  short  conversation  that 
followed,  I  found  his  name  was  Gage,  and  that  he 
and  Middleton  were  old  acquaintances  ;  though  I  had 
an  idea  from  the  angry  flashing  of  Middleton's  eyes, 
that  he  did'nt  half  like  the  strange  familiarity,  the  per 
fect  self-possession,  and  the  steady  quiet  voice  of 
Gage.  But  as  for  me,  I  was  delighted  with  him.  He 
was  evidently  a  New-Englander  of  the  right  sort ;  a 
full-blooded,  old-fashioned  Yankee ;  and  from  the 
moment  I  heard  him  read  over  the  title  of  the  verses 
from  the  book,  '  Lines  beneath  a  nosegay,'  I  was  de 
termined  to  know  more  of  him.  No  change,  nor 
shadow  of  change  was  there  in  look  or  tone,  voice  or 
feature  ;  but  a  something  so  self-assured  at  the  time, 
so  easy  and  so  natural,  that  for  your  life,  you  could'nt 
be  angry,  though  he  treated  you  from  the  first  mo 
ment  you  saw  him,  as  if  he  had  been  acquainted  with 
you  all  your  life  long.  He  would  say  the  severest 
things  ! — but  always  with  such  a  pleasant  eye — no" 
bitterness — no  affected  archness — no  assumed  gravity 
was  there  ;  nothing  of  that  manner  which  betrays  a 
professional  wit,  who  having  raised  a  laugh,  or,  let  a 
pun,  draws  out  his  po|£et-handkerchief  with  a  long 
sober  flourish  and  wipes  his  mouth,  or  turns  on  his 

A 

heel  and  walks  away,  as  if  he  attached  no  sort  of  value 
to  his  very  best  things,  and  might,  if  he  would  take 
the  trouble,  do  a  thousand  times  better. 

He  could  reason  too,  and  that  with  extraordinary 
power ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  and  evening  we 
were  together,  he  impressed  me  with  a  very  exalted 
c2 


30  THE    DOWN    EASTER3,    &.C.    &C. 

opinion  of  his  moral  courage.  Perhaps  an  example 
or  two  may  give  the  reader  a  better  idea  of  him,  and 
though  it  may  appear  to  delay  the  story,  it  will  serve 
to  abridge  it  in  the  long  run,  by  substituting  fact  for 
description — the  man  himself,  heartily  engaged  in  a 
favorite  cause,  for  a  picture  of  him  or  many  pictures 
of  him,  wanting  that  essential  feature  of  individuality 
— speech.  '.-£ 

Take  an  example — 

Not  long  after  this  I  found  him  occupied  with  the 
venerable  old  quaker  in  a  discussion  that  interested 
me,  and  appeared  to  interest  others,  exceedingly.  It 
was  about  war. 

But  thee  will  agree  with  me  friend  Gage,  said  the 
old  man,  that  if  two  neighbors,  having  a  dispute,  if 
thee  will,  about  the  boundary  of  their  respective  gar 
dens,  or  some  privilege  common  to  both,  were  to  spend 
their  time  shooting  at  one  another  through  the  fence, 
er  setting  fire  to  each  other's  houses,  or  carrying  oft" 
each  other's  children,  and  holding  them  as  prisoners 
of  war  and  hostages,  only  to  be  given  up  at  the  end 
of  the  quarrel — if  they  did  this,  instead  of  referring 
the  disputed  question  to  a  neighbor,  they  would  only 
be  acting  as  nations  do,  when  they  go  to  war  about  a 
patch  of  territory,  hardly  worth  having  at  all,  and 

never  worth  the  sacrifice  of  x>ne  human  creature — 

^P 
never ! 

And  then,  after  a  short"  .pause  and  a  benevolent 
smile,  as  he  sat  smoothing  down  the  soft  silky  hair  of 
his  grand-daughter,  whose  bonnet  had  slipped  off 
without  being  perceived  by  herself. — Perhaps  thee  will 
agree  too,  that  for  such  neighbors  to  talk  about  honor, 
or  dignity,  or  justice,  while  they  are  trying  to  murder 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  31 

one  another,  would  be  looked  upon,  though  there 
were  no  law  to  appeal  to,  as  a  great  folly  and  a  great 
wickedness  ? 

Certainly,  sir,  said  Gage.  And  I  would  go  further, 
much  further.  I  would  say  that  in  perhaps  ninety- 
nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  if  individuals  were  to  act 
as  nations  do  in  going  to  war,  they  would  be  hunted 
to  death  by  common  consent,  even  amang  savages. 

Grandfather,  said  the  girl,  in  a  low  timid  whisper — 
and  then  she  stopped  and  seeing  Middleton's  eyes 
fixed  upon  her,  with  a  look  that  instantly  disappeared, 
faltered  out  something  relative  to  the  New  Zealan- 
ders,  adding  that  it  went  far  to  prove  what  friend 
Gage  had  been  saying. 

Friend  Gage,  to  be  sure !  and  said  without  any 
visible  trepidation,  with  no  drooping  of  the  eye-lids, 
nor  quivering  of.  the  under-lip — and  yet,  I  had  reason 
to  believe  that  he  was  a  perfect  stranger  to  her.  To 
tell  the  truth,  I  did'nt  half  like  her  manner  in  this  be 
half,  as  a  lawyer  would  say  ;  and  as  for  Middleton,  I 
could  perceive  that  he  was  no  better  pleased  than  my 
self.  But  when  she  addressed  him  also  as  a  friend — 
friend  Middleton,  it  appeared  to  alter  the  case.  He 
stared  first,  and  then  bowed,  and  then  blushed,  and 
then  looked  another  way. 

Yes,  continued  Gage,  and  if  they  were  to  employ 
other  people,  as  the  war-makers  do,  instead  of  risking 
their  own  lives  and  property  ;  or  go  to  war  with  one 
another  merely  for  the  sake  of  employing  their  super 
numeraries,  grumblers,  hangers-on,  I  am  very  sure  that 
even  among  the  New  Zealanders,  a  price  would  soon 
be  put  upon  their  heads  ;  for  if  you  recollect  m'am — 
bowing  reverentially  to  the  fair  creature  before  him— 


82  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    (fee.    &C. 

Elizabeth,  friend  Gage — Elizabeth  Hale,  that's  her 
name,  said  her  grandfather,  before  he  had  finished  the 
bow — 

Elizabeth — Hale — whispered  Middleton — I  could 
just  hear  the  sound  as  he  breathed  it  forth,  just  see 
the  motion  of  his  lips  ;  his  pale  face  all  of  a  glow, 
and  the  tone  so  modulated,  perhaps  by  accident,  as  to 
change  a  question  into  an  apostrophe — Elizabeth 
Hale  ?  into  Elizabeth  !  Hail ! 

But,  continued  Gage,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered 
from  the  bow — I  would  not  be  understood  to  mean — 
that  is  to  say — there  are  cases- 1  believe — there  may 
be  cases,  I  should  say — don't  you  think  so  Miss  Hale  ? 
— wandering,  by  Jupiter  ! — (getting  more  courage  and 
more  breath  as  he  proceeded,  and  showing  that  even 
he  could  be  disconcerted  by  a  pair  of  fine  child-like 
eyes — to  the  astonishment  of  myself  and  the  great 
joy  of  Middleton) — there  are  cases  where,  in  short, 
a — a — a  where  even  war  would  be  justifiable,  not/or 
the  sacrifice,  but  to  avoid  the  sacrifice  of  human  life. 

Thou  shalt  not  kill,  whispered  the  fair  Elizabeth  ; 
and  then  she  turned  away,  as  if  unwilling  to  to  be  led 
into  a  controversy,  and  half  ashamed  of  herself  and 
sorry  for  having  said  so  much ;  and  I  began  to  fe el,  as  I 
saw  her  studying  the  deep  sea  once  more,  that  I  should 
forgive  her  soon,  for  not  having  appeared  to  enjoy  one 
of  my  very  sensible  observations  in  the  first  part  of 
our  voyage. 

But  we  are  not  to  understand  such  things  literally — 
are  we  sir?  continued  Gage,  addressing  himself  to  the 
grandfather,  who  appeared  to  triumph  in  her  applica 
tion  of  scripture.  If  so,  we  are  to  kill  nothing — 
nothing — not  «ven  the  beast  of  prey,  the  serpent,  or 
the  mad  dog. 


THE    DOWN    EA3TERS,    &C.    &C.  33 

Thou  shalt  do  no  murder,  friend  Gage — Nehemiah 
Gage,  I  think  thee  said  ? — 

Yes  ;  Nehemiah — Elizabeth  turned  her  face  toward 
Middleton,  as  much  as  to  say — Thine's  the  prettier 
name  by  far  ;  and  Middleton  bit  his  under  lip,  as  much 
as  to  say — I'm  sure  he  thought  so — a  very  sensible 
observation  Miss  Elizabeth  !  what  if  they  had  tried  to 
christen  me  Nehemiah  ? — they'd  'a  had  a  pretty  time 
of  it,  don't  you  think  so  ?  And  Gage  continued — But 
if  killing  a  fellow-creature  is  the  murder  meant  there, 
what  becomes  of  the  right  of  self-defence  ? 

I  find  nothing  said  about  the  right  of  self-defence 
in  the  Book  of  Life,  my  young  friend :  we  are  com 
manded  to  love  our  enemies,  continued  the  grand 
father,  in  a  tone  that  would  have  stopped  that  contro- 
rersy  or  any  other,  ashore. 

And  our  neighbour  as  ourself,  added  somebody  in 
a  low  whisper  at  my  elbow.  It  was  Middleton  talk 
ing  to  himself;  and  I  saw  the  color  come  and  go  over 
the  beautiful  neck  before  me,  and  wander  about  in 
flashes  underneath  the  delicate  gauze,  like  the  soft 
glow  you  see  toward  sunset  in  the  month  of  Septem 
ber — when  the  large  white  flowers  of  the  wilderness 
and  the  solitude  are  blowing  in  the  mist  and  warmth 
of  our  Indian-summer — the  sweet-scented  water- 
lilies,  if  they  would  only  blow  in  that  month — when 
erery  thing  is  unsteadied  in  the  atmosphere.  I  was 
completely  bewildered.  Perhaps  the  reader  may  be 
so  too  ? 

And  moreover,  continued  the  grandfather,  we  are 
commanded  to  do  as  we  would  be  done  by. 

Worthy  of  all  acceptation  !  cried  Gage,  looking  at 
the  innocent  mouth  before  him  as  if  ready  to  follow 


34  THE    DOWN    EASTKRS,    &C.   &C. 

the  command  to  the  very  letter — Middleton's  eyes 
flashed  fire  !  And  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw,  the  shadow 
of  a  projected  under  lip  over  the  sarsnet-lining  of  her 
little  straw-bonnet,  as  that  mouth  turned  away. 

Fearing  he  had  gone  too  far  perhaps,  Gage 
continued  in  a  different  tone,  as  if  with  a  view  to 
conciliate  both. — It  cannot  be  sir,  that  you  and  others 
who  are  willing  to  live  under  a  government  of  laws, 
Where  the  guilty  are  punished  and  the  virtuous  pro 
tected — by  law — it  cannot  be  that  you  receive  these 
and  other  like  passages  literally? 

And  why  not,  I  pray  thee  ?  How  are  we  to  under 
stand  them  otherwise — on  what  authority  ?  The 
language  is  clear — very  clear — so  clear  as  to  need  no 
interpretation ;  so  clear  as  to  be  incapable  of  inter 
pretation. 

Yet  we  do,  and  we  must  continue  to  understand 
them  otherwise.  For  if  literally,  my  dear  sir,  we 
are  to  take  no  heed  for  the  morrow,  and  to  leave  the 
support  of  a  family  to  chance ;  if  literally,  we  are 
to  do  as  we  would  be  done  by — if,  when  smitten  upon 
one  cheek,  we  are  literally  to  turn  the  other ;  and  if 
literally,  when  a  man  sueth  us  at  law,  and  taketh 
away  our  coat,  we  are  to  let  him  have  our  cloaks 
also — if  we  are  to  receive  all  these  commands  lite 
rally,  what  would  become  of  us  ?  Why  have  we  any 
laws  upon  earth,  or  any  government  ?  Why  any 
fastening  to  our  doors,  or  l5cks  in  our  houses  ?  Why 
not  spend  all  that  we  have  in  rewarding  the  robber 
and  the  ravisher,  the  house-breaker  and  the  midnight- 
murderer  ?  No  sir  ! — one  of  these  two  things  we 
must  do,  whether  Christians  or  not — believers  or  nol 
-—whether  friends  or  presbyterians,  methodists  oy 


THE    DOWN    KASTERS,    &C.    &C.  36 

catholics — we  must  either  take  these  and  other  like 
doctrines  in  a  limited  and  qualified  sense,  even  as  all 
Christians  do,  in  practice,  and  all  that  make  war  in 
any  manner  or  contribute  in  any  manner  to  the  mak 
ing  of  war,  under  any  provocation;  Or — we  must 
give  up  the  security  of  law,  have  done  with  all  govern 
ment,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  and  all  the 
appendages  thereto — raze  all  our  public-prisons,  even 
to  our  penitentiaries  and  bettering-houses,  and  lunatic- 
hospitals  to  their  very  foundations ;  let  loose  all  the 
unhappy  creatures  that  inhabit  them  for  our  security 
- — lay  bare  all  our  treasures — 

Middleton  began  to  breath  fiercely  here,  and  the 
fair  Elizabeth  to  look  alarmed,  sitting  with  her  lips 
apart  and  her  eager  eyes  rivetted  on  Gage,  who  con 
tinued  with  great  energy. 

Lay  bare  all  our  treasures — throw  open  all  our  doors 
— and  leave  our  daughters  and  our  wives  to  the 
spoiler ! 

Friend  Gage ! — Nehemiah  Gage  !  said  the  grand 
father,  Avith  a  look  of  amazement. 

I  am  perfectly  serious,  added  Gage. 

I  believe  thee,  and  am  sorry  for  it,  answered  the 
grandfather  ;  and  when  I  looked  at  the  fair  Elizabeth, 
she  was  pale  as  death,  and  her  eyes  were  full  of 
strange  sorrow. 

But  Gage  persevered,  and  as  for  me,  I  was  ,wickeel 
enough  to  enjoy  the  idea  of  his  forfeiting  the  favor 
of  both. 

Perfectly,  my  dear  sir.  I  see  no  otlier  alternative. 
He  who  contends  for  the  literal  interpretation  of 
those  passages,  must  do  so  upon  the  ground  that  all 
human  means  of  protection  are  prohibited ;  that  self 


36  THE    DOWN    CASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

defence,  not  being  mentioned  in  scripture,  is  therefore 
unauthorised;  that  under  all  circumstances,  and 
everywhere,  the  Believer  has  nothing  to  do  for  him 
self; — for  what  is  law,  any  law,  for  the  protection  of 
property,  life  or  character,  but  the  right  of  self- 
defence  delegated  ? 

The  old  man  shook  his  reverend  locks,  and  poor 
Elizabeth  breathed  only  at  long  intervals ;  but  \vhen 
she  did  breathe,  her  eyes  were  upon  Gage — there  is 
no  denying  it — with  an  expression  of  deep  interest. 
I  began  to  feel  angry  with  her . 

In  which  case  continued  he,  standing  more  upright 
and  warming  with  the  subject — I  hold  it  sir,  to  be  no 
more  inconsistent  for  a  Christian,  who  contends  for 
the  literal  meaning  of  those  passages,  to  go  to  war, 
than  to  go  to  law. 

Grandfather  would  agree  with  the  there  !  said  Eliza 
beth,  interrupting  him  with  an  eager  smile,  and  a  sigh 
that  I  couldn't  help  referring  to  another. 

Gage  put  forth  his  hand  upon  her  arm — so  uncon 
sciously,  that  she  forgot  to  observe  it;  adding  as  he 
did  so,  with  an  air  that  astonished  me — it  was  that  of 
a  high-bred  handsome  fellow,  confident  of  his  power 
and  sure  of  being  well  received  by  a  woman,  say 
what  he  would,  or  do  what  he  would  ;  for  this  neither 
Middleton  nor  I  was  prepared, — I  am  obliged  to  you, 
said  he ;  but  I  have  not  finished.  And  I  hold  sir, 
that  it  would  be  no  more  inconsistent  for  the  believer 
to  go  to  war,  than  for  any  body  who  adheres  to  the 
literal  interpretation  of  these  passages,  to  fasten  his 
door.o*  nights,  or  to  have  a  lock-and-key  under  hU 
i-o  of. 

But,  my  young  friend,  urged  the  grandfather — if 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  37 

we  were  all  consistent,  and  always  consistent,  there 
would  be  no  need  of  bolts  and  bars,  nor  locks  and 
keys — nor  even  of  laws.  And  it  is  not  for  thee  and 
me  to  do  wrong  because  others  do  so  ;  or  to  be  incon 
sistent  because  others  are  so. 

There  was  a  clencher  !  and  I  could  perceive  that  it 
was  so  intended,  and  so  understood,  by  all  parties. 
Another  might  have  been  abashed  or  puzzled ;  but 
our  Yankee  appeared  to  enjoy  the  idea  of  hearing  a 
new  argument  to  answer.  My  dear  sir,  said  he,  we 
do  not  understand  each  other.  What  I  complain  of 
is  that  all  are  inconsistent ;  and  they,  more  than  all 
others,  who  receiving  these  passages  literally,  go  to 
law,  or  lock  up  their  money,  or  under  any  circum 
stances  apply  to  the  law  for  protection. 

But  we  never  do  go  to  law,  said  the  grandfather. 

Excuse  me  sir.  You  never  go  to  law  among  your 
selves.  Yet  you  go  to  law  with  others ;  and  the 
stricteth  of  your  faith  would  not  scruple  to  apply  to  a 
magistrate  for  protection  against  any  body  that  he 
seriously  feared,  or  any  one  who  threatened  to  destroy 
his  property  or  injure  his  person. 

Very  true — and  that  is  what  thee  calls  incon 
sistency  hey? 

Yes.  And  I  go  further.  I  say  that  if  you  were 
consistent,  instead  of  being  what  you  are,  incon 
sistent,  there  would  be  a  stop  to  the  whole  business 
of  life  among  you.  Society  would  be  overrun  with 
outlaws,  robbers  and  ravishers.  Is  it  a  sure  mode  of 
making  others  honest,  for  a  man  to  fall  asleep  in  the 
higlway  or  the  market-place,  with  his  gold  lying 
about  him  in  heaps  ?  or  the  best  way  of  making  others 
peaceable,  for  a  man  to  go  with  his  hands  tied  behind 
D 


38  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &.C.  &C. 

him,  among  ruffians — particularly  if  he  assures  them 
before  hand  that  he  is  worth  an  experiment,  by  assur 
ing  them  before  hand  that  they  have  nothing  to  fear. 
Constituted  as  the  world  now  is,  he  who  forbears  to 
protect  his  own  life,  either  by  applying  to  the  law,  or 
by  making  use  of  the  bodily  power  he  may  be 
endowed  with,  appears  to  me,  sir,  to  be  a  very  pre 
sumptuous  man.  He  crowds  temptation  in  the  way 
of  those  who  are  least  able  to  withstand  it,  and  then, 
having  done  this,  he  relies  on  a  miracle  for  safety. 
Nay  more,  he  tempts  Jehovah — why  not  cast  himself 
down  headlong  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  in  his 
presumptuous  confidence  ? 

The  sweet  girl  grew  very  uneasy  here  ;  and  I  saw 
her  thoughts  wandering  visibly  between  the  elo'quent 
northerner,  and  the  silent  southerner — who  stood 
aloof  with  his  haughty  lip  contradicting  his  lighted 
eyes  ;  a  gathered  and  concentrated  power  about  the 
mouth,  dashed  with  a  something  scornful ;  a  loftier 
and  a  more  glorious  look  above,  as  though  he  felt 
himself  carried  away  by  the  generous  language,  and 
high  bearing  of  the  man  before  him — spite  of  a  con 
stitutional  antipathy  and  a  something  more,  which 
nobody  understood  better  than  the  fair  Elizabeth, 
who  instead  of  being  offended  by  the  familiar  manner 
of  Gage,  appeared  to  be  pleased  with  it — or  not  to 
observe  it,  where  to  a  southerner  it  seemed  worthy  of 
immediate  and  special  reproof. 

Talk  of  consistency  sir!  continued  Gage,  stepping 
out  from  the  circle  and  throwing  a  hurried  glanc« 
round  the  whole  company,  as  if  he  had  another  and  a 
higher  object  in  view,  than  the  refutation  of  the  old 
grandfather,  his  pale  cheek  reddening  with  concealed 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  39 

fire  and  his  grey  eyes  dilating  with  extraordinary 
brightness  for  a  man  of  the  north.  Talk  of  con 
sistency  sir  !  If  our  Father  above  were  consistent, 
according  to  such  notions  of  consistency,  he  would 
love  his  bitterest  enemies  most,  and  he  would  treat 
those  best  who  behaved  worst — and  so  would  the 
Savior  of  men  ! 

And  is  it  not  so — said  Gerard  Middleton  ;  do  we 
not  find  it  so  ?  stepping  quietly  forth,  and  urging  what 
he  had  to  say  with  a  voice  that  thrilled  through  and 
through  me — so  earnest  and  so  musical  was  it  and  so 
eloquent  with  subdued  emotion.  What  are  all  the 
blessings  we  receive,  all  that  we  enjoy  upon  earth — 
health,  strength  and  intellectual  power — opportunity 
for  deing  good — equally  distributed  every  where  and 
at  all  times,  without  regard  to  our  unequal  merits  ? 
Nay  sir — What  is  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  ? 
What  the  illustration  that  goes  with  it,  showing  that 
there  is  more  rejoicing  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth — I  have  a  bad  memory  for  language  sir— 
What  are  all  these  things  but  the  recorded  interpre 
tation  of  our  Father's  will  ?  the  everlasting  order  of 
his  works  on  earth  ? 

Having  said  this,  he  fell  back  as  if  astonished  at 
himself  and  more  than  half  sorry  for  having  been  so 
betrayed — in  such  a  place  and  in  such  company — and 
his  lips  quivered,  and  I  could  see  that  his  hand  tremb 
led  violently. 

Gage  looked  up  with  a  glow  of  surprize  and  joy 
overspreading  his  intelligent  face,  and  putting  forth 
his  arm,  he  would  have  taken  Middleton's  hand,  as  it 
lay  palpitating  over  the  top  of  a  chair  ;  but  Middleton 
withdrew  it,  and  Gage  instead  of  knocking  him  down 


» 


40  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

— smiled,  not  bitterly  nor  insultingly  neither,  but 
pleasantly,  as  if  he  understood  every  pulsation  of  the 
youthful  and  imperious  heart  before  him. 

Magnificently  urged!  cried  he.  And  yet,  if  all 
were  to  understand  these  things  as  you  do,  would 
there  not  be  encouragement  for  the  transgressor,  and 
discouragement  for  the  obedient  and  faithful  ? — en 
couragement  for  transgression,  I  should  say  ? 

My  young  friend — Gerard  Middleton — I  must  know 
more  of  thee,  said  the  old  man,  seeing  him  about  to 
reply ;  and  of  thee  also,  Nehemiah  Gage — for  I  am 
satisfied  (with  a  smile)  I  am  satisfied  that  in  thee,  our 
people  have  a  dangerous  adversary.  I  have  heard  of 
thee  before.  Not  contented  with  abandoning  the 
faith  committed  to  thee  by  our  fathers',  I  am  afraid 
(smiling  benevolently  upon  him  and  upon  Middleton, 
as  he  proceeded)  thou  hast  profited  a  little  to  our  dis 
advantage  by  thy  long  familiarity  with  our  opini 
ons  ? 

Gage  colored.  And  Elizabeth — poor  Elizabeth — 
she  looked  as  if  the  Arch-Apostate  himself  had  ap 
peared  to  her  bodily. 

Nevertheless,  continued  the  grandfather,  I  cannot 
deny  that  thee  has  a  very  ingenious  plausible  way 
with  thee,  Ne-he-miah.  I  am  not  convinced  to  be 
sure;  and  between  ourselves  I  dont  much  think  thee 
would  wish  me  to  be  convinced — thee  would  rather 
have  such  a  controversy  continue  ;  would  thee  not, 
Nehemiah  ? 

Gage  laughed,  but  assured  him  he  wns  greatly 
mistaken. 

Well,  well — I  dare  say  so.  Thee  is  not  the  first 
that  has  convinced  himself  in  failing  to  convince 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  41 

others  ;.Jbut  before  we  leave  the  subject,  there  is  one 
passage  I  would  refer  thee  to,  and  leave  thee  to 
examine  it  for  thyself,  at  thy  own  leisure.  I  allude 
to  that,  where  Simon  Peter  having  a  sword,  drew  it 
and  smote  a  servant  of  the  High-Priest  and  cut  off 
his  ear.  Whereupon  he  Avas  commanded  to  put  up 
his  sword ;  for  said  he,  who  spake  as  never,  never 
man  spake,  all  they  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish 
by  the  sword. 

One  moment — if  you  please  !  cried  Gage,  seeing 
the  old  man  draw  the  hand  of  Elizabeth  through  his 
arm,  and  pull  her  bonnet  over  her  forehead  as  if  about 
to  leave  us.  I  am  as  unwilling  as  you  to  continue 
the  subject  here  (with  a  decided  emphasis,  and  a 
flutter  that  betrayed  the  hope  he  entertained) ;  but  as 

I  may  never  have  another  opportunity 

The  devil  take  your  impudence  !  thought  I.  Now 
there  is  Middleton,  who  would  give  his  little  finger 
for  another  opportunity  as  you  call  it ;  and  here  am 
I,  a  personage  not  very  easily  disconcerted — yet 
neither  could  have  said  as  much,  in  that  way,  if  our 
lives  had  depended  upon  it. 

Never  continued  he — much  as  I  may  desire  it, — 
And  some  how  or  other,  even  I  could  perceive  as  well 
as  the  fair  Elizabeth,  whose  blue  eyes  trembled  in 
their  own  lustre  when  he  looked  at  her,  a  something 
very  mournful  and  sweet  in  his  altered  voiee — touch 
ing  I  woul3  say,  but  for  the  fellow's  breadth  of 
shoulders,  high  clear  forehead,  compressed  mouth  and 
perfect  self  possession — Allow  me  to  ask  you  whether 
you  receive  that  passage  literally  ? 
The  old  man  hesitated. 

D2 


42  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

In  point  of  fact,  I  would  ask  you  sir — if  all  who 
take  the  sword — all  sir,  do  perish  by  the  sword  ? 

By  the  sword  of  the  spirit perhaps,  if  not  by 

the  sword  of  the  flesh. 

Ah  ! — then  you  give  up  the  literal  meaning !  Now, 
without  referring  to  the  passage  where  the  Saviour 
commands  every  man  who  hath  not  a  sword  to  sell 
his  garment  and  buy  one — I  too  have  a  bad  memory 
for  language  sir,  glancing  at  Middleton — and  without 
relying  upon  the  circumstance  that  he  never  re 
proaches  a  centurion  for  following  the  trade  of  war ; 
I  should  argue  from  the  very  passage  you  have  cited, 
that  one  of  these  things  must  be  true.  Either  the 
Savior  of*  Men  did  not  teach  the  doctrine  of  non- 
resistance  to  evil  as  you  understand  it;  or — I  pray 
you  to  consider  the  alternative : — Or,  he  did  not  teach 
it  clearly  and  explicitly,  and  to  all:  in  other  words, 
my  dear  sir,  that  his  immediate  followers  and  constant 
companions  did  not  so  understand  it  as  you  under 
stand  it :  Or — and  here  again  I  beseech  you  to  con 
sider  the  alternative — or,  that  they  were  guilty  of  the 
most  unpardonable  outrage  toward  him,  at  the  very 
moment  when  all  his  teachings,  and  promptings  and 
Bufferings  were  about  to  be  consummated  forever!  one 
of  his  followers  an  apostle,  not  only  having  a  sword, 
but  wearing  it  into  his  very  presence ;  and  wearing 
it  too  unrebuked  of  the  others !  up  to  the  very 
moment  when  he  drew  it  bejfore  the  face  of  his  Lord- 
and-Master,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  smote  off  the 
ear  of  his  enemy  !  To  judge  of  this  argument  as  I  do 
think  it  deserves,  let  me  ask  you  sir,  what  would  be 
thought  by  your  brethren,  if  a  follower  of  George 
Fox  were  to  go  armed  into  the  midst  of  them  on  a 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  43 

yearly-meeting  day?  Yet  sir — if  the  Savior  taught 
the  same  doctrines,  and  taught  them  as  clearly  as 
George  Fox  did,  Simon  Peter  offered  a  greater  affront 
by  far  to  his  teacher  and  to  his  brethren  ! 

A  dead  silence  followed — nobody  moved  nor  spoke, 
till  the  fair  Elizabeth  murmured  out  something,  which 
led  her  grandfather  to  observe,  as  he  looked  hurriedly 
and  anxiously,  now  at  Gage  and  now  at  Middleton — 
We  are  commanded  to  love  one  another. 

Yes,  echoed  another  and  a  nearer  voice,  trembling 
with  timidity  and  issuing  in  a  low  sweet  murmur — 
Yes  ! — We  are  commanded  to  love  one  another  ! 

Would  you  believe  it!  her  eyes — her  dove-like 
eyes — instead  of  wandering  from  Gage  to  Middleton 
and  from  Middleton  to  me  when  she  said  this,  were 
fixed  upon  Middleton  ! 

The  fervid  young  Southerner  was  completely  over 
powered.  He  stood  before  her,  like  a  child,  speech 
less  and  motionless ; — I  have  no  doubt,  with  a  dread 
ful  sinking  of  the  heart,  and  a  terrible  ringing  in  the 
ears.  How  I  pitied  him  ! — But  I  pitied  Gage  more. 
Both  are  dead  in  love  with  her,  said  a  stranger  at  my 
elbow — and  I'm  ditto  ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

.  i 

ON  shifting  my  quarters  and  going  farther  forward, 
where  I  might  pursue  the  train  of  thought  conjured 
up  by  the  lively  picture  of  society  I  had  just  left,  I 
found  myself  in  the  company  of  another  stranger, 
evidently  from  the  south — perhaps  from  Baltimore, 
as  he  was  remarkably  well-dre.ssed,  rather  sallow, 
and  given  to  calling  unmarried  females,  whatever 
might  be  their  age,  Miss — hit  or  miss,  I  should  say, 
though  if  I  were  a  woman  of  a  certain  age,  like  Han 
nah  Moore,  Joanna  Bailie  or  Elizabeth  any  body, — 
I  think  I  should  rather  be  hit  any  how,  than  missed 
in  that  way ;  at  the  south,  it  is  regarded  as  peculiar 
to  the  north,  as  downright  a  vulgarism,  to  say  ma'am 
to  the  unmarried,  as  to  talk  about  a  dish  of  tea,  though 
both,  instead  of  yankee — are  English  modes  of  speech. 
Before  five  minutes  were  over,  that  which  was  only 
conjecture  at  first,  became  certainty ;  for  the  individual 
in  question  while  talking  with  me  about  the  curiosities 
of  our  northern  speech,  had  the  misfortune  to  say 
in'-quiry,  deciss'ive,  adver'tiss,  and  dif-fic'-ult.  W« 
were  interrupted  by  the  Down-Easter  with  a  figure 
head  to  his  face,  talking  to  another.  Why  then,  to 
the  best  o'  my  belief,  said  he,_the  tor'-mented  critter ! 
he's  a  sort  of  a  travellin'  missionary  goin'  about  to 
an*  fro  in  the  airtb.  seekin'  what  he  may  devour  ho — 
ho — ho ! 

I  started  and  turned  to  see  whom  he  had  in  view — • 
and  whether  it  was  really  and  truly  a  laugh  or  only  a 


THE    DOWN    EASTER,    &C.    &/C.  45 

dry  cough  ;  but  I  did  not  succeed  in  satisfying  myself, 
and  to  this  day  I  continue  in  doubt.  He  had  never 
laughed  before — to  my  knowledge — nor  do  I  believe 
that  he  has  ever  laughed  since — like  other  people. 

No  great  shakes  tho'  arter  all,  continued  he,  sitting 
on  the  windlass,  talking  apparently  to  himself,  with  a 
long  nine  in  his  mouth,  and  swinging  his  legs,  some 
where  between  225°  and  280°  on  the  average,  for 
ten  minutes  together ;  lives  by  swappin'  watches  and 
so-forths,  six  days  o'  the  week,  an'  preachin'  at  the 
halves,  or  maybe  for  his  board  an'  hoss-keep  a* 
aabba-days. 

Preaching  at  the  halves — how's  that?  said  tho 
southerner. 

Why  dont  you  know?  in  partnership  for  what'* 
taken  up  arter  the  sarmon's  over  ;  sometimes  they  go 
snacks,  an'  sometimes  they  sell  out  aforehand  for  so 
much  over  an'  above  thir  reglar  wages. 

How  ? — snacks — hey  ?  I  don't  understand  you — I 
never  heard  of  this  before. 

I  want  to  know !  exclaimed  the  other  down-easter. 

Well  you  do  know,  replied  the  southerner,  in  per 
fect  good  faith,  mistaking  a  northern  exclamation  for 
a  formal  interrogatory. 

Why,  continued  the  down-Easter — there's  them 
that  preaches  yer  see  and  then  there's  them  that  rides 
about  an'  drums  up  the  congregation — poor  business 
though,  now  I  can  tell  ye — quite  spylt  for  the  reg'lar 
trader — so  many  pious  young  men  about  now  that 
has  their  expenses  paid,  so  't  they  are  able  to 
under-preach  the  rest  of  us  ;  there's  some  on  'em 
gits  a  dollar  a  day  an'  found;  when  if  they  was 


46  THE    DOWN    EASTBRS,    &C.    &C. 

obleege  to  work  honestly  for  a  livin'  they  wouldn't 
airn  the  salt  to  their  porridge 

Let  alone  their  porridge !  said  the  Baltimorian. 

Well  well  I've  no  objection  to  that  nyther,  answer 
ed  the  down-easter,  also  in  perfect  good  faith  and 
simplicity,  mistaking  a  southern  idiom,  for  a  gentle 
reproof. 

Here  a  most  obstreperous  peal  of  laughter  broke 
forth,  from  a  tall,  showy,  handsome,  savage  looking- 
fellow,  whom  I  had  not  observed  before.  Who  is 
he — what's  he  laughin'  at  ? — sees  somethin'  over 
board,  I  ruther  guess,  dont  you  ? — wonder  where  he 
was  brung  up,  to  have  no  more  manners  than  that 
comes  to?  continued  the  latter  of  the  down-easters, 
tacking  question  to  question  by  the  score,  without 
waiting  for  a  single  answer.  ,  Taint  half  an  hour  ago 
't  I  heard  him  talk  about  growin'  potaters  an'  makin' 
corn,  an'  raisin'  niggers — guess  he  was  pokin'  fun  a.t 
somebody ;  an7  then  I  should  like  to  know  (in  a 
whisper)  what  upon  irth  he  means  by  hog-an-pmminy, 
an'  hoe  cakes,  an'  pone  bread,  an'  mud-larks  that's 
made  into  Virginny-ham.  I'll  be  driv  right  in  eend, 
if  I  can  see  through  that. 

Before  I  had  time  to  reply,  my  friend  with  the 
nose,  rounded  to  and  bore  away  on  another  tack, 
propounding  so  many  questions  without  appearing  to 
see  me  or  any  body  else,  or  to  care  a  fig  about  being 
answered — talking  to  himself  as  it  were  in  a  loud 
earnest  voice — that  I  determined  to  have  a  pull  at  the 
game  he  was  putting  up,  on  my  own  account,  or  per 
haps  I  had  better  say,  on  my  own  '  account  and  risk  ;' 
for  there  is  no  little  risk  in  setting-  a  down-Easter. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  47 

If  I  am  not  much  deceived,  said  I — you  are  a  New- 
Englander  ;  are  you  not? 

Me  ! — What  makes  you  think  so  ? 

That's  enough — I  am  satisfied  now. 

Satisfied  ? — who  with  ? — yourself  or  me  ? 

Perfectly  satisfied — best  answer  I  ever  heard  in  my 
life  ;  a  great  deal  better  than  yes  or  no ;  for  it  a- 
mounts  to  proof — proof  positive — that  you  are  of 
those  that  always  answer  a  question  by  asking 
another. 

Why — how  you  talk  !  ,-M 

Here,  the  travelling- trader  against  whom  I  had  been 
cautioned,  and  who  had  followed  me  without  being 
perceived,  spoke  up  and  addressing  himself  to  the 
other  who  was  on  the  wheel  asked  him  what  he 
thought  of  the  war — '  take  it  altogether — inside  an' 
out,  as  the  nigger  sjaid.' 

Why,  what  do  you  think  of  it  yourself?  was  th« 
reply. 

Ah — ha ! — I  know  what  makes  ye  so  snappish ;  see 
through  you,  when  you  fust  cum  aboard — if  I  didn't, 
there's  no  sneks  in  our  part  o'  the  country — leave't 
to  you,  neighbour : — appealing  to  me  as  if  we  we?« 
on  the  most  familiar  terms  in  the  world,  and  taking 
up  my  hat  as  he  spoke,  and  blowing  about  the  rich  fur 
by  way  of  parentheses. 

I  replied  as  well  as  I  knew  how,  and  forthwith  a 
political  set-to  began,  which  continued  till  there 
were  five  or  six  of  a  side  all  talking  together — laugh 
ing — swearing — smoking — and  calling  one  another 
blue-lights,  jacobins,  tories,  democrats  and  enemies  to 
the  country.  The  sharpest  and  bitterest,  nay  th* 
rudest  and  coarsest  things  were  said — but  all  in  a 


' 


48  THE    DOWN    EASTER8,  &C.    &,C. 

good-natured  way,  like  brothers  pretending  to  be  in 
a  passion,  though  they  would  strike  their  fists  upon 
the  empty  hogsheads,  and  their  eyes  would  flash  and 
their  chins  quiver  with  rage  one  minute,  and  they 
would  all  burst  out  a  laughing  together,  and  clap  their 
hands,  and  stamp  their  feet,  and  hourra  the  next,  as 
the  one  side  or  the  other  happened  to  give  a  good 
hit.  In  the  midst  of  the  uproar  my  attention  was 
called  off  to  another  group  so  thoroughly  charac 
teristic  of  a  steam-boat  conversation-party  that  I 
could  not  forbear  listening  awhile. 

One  had  a  newspaper  and  was  reading  aloud  to  the 
rest — in  a  way  that  appeared  to  amuse  them  exceed 
ingly.  When  he  came  to  what  he  called  an  outlandish 
word,  he  would  stop  and  spell  it,  and  then  push  for 
ward  again  with  a  speed  that  left  him  breathless  at 
the  end  of  every  paragraph.  T.  Z.  A.  R — said  he, — 
how  do  you  purnounce  that  air,  mister  ?  turning  to 
Gage  ;  never  had  no  schoolin'  to  speak  of  myself — 

Ah !  said  Gage,  with  a  look  of  surprize — 

No,  never,  an'  the  leetle  I  do  know  I've  picked  up 
here  an'  there,  nobody  knows  how;  an'  I  don't 
purtend  above  all  to  know  but  plaguy  leetle  about 
grammar  an'  jogrify. — T.  Z.  A.  R. — I  should  call 
that  Teazer — the  Teazer  of  Rooshy,  hey  ? 

Well,  and  why  not  ?  said  Gage  ;  free  country  you 
know. 

Wai !  I  declare  !  If  that  akit  jest  my  way  o'  think- 
in'.  Taint  more  an'  three  years  ago  last  fall — raising 
his  voice  and  looking  about  him  with  an  air  of  growing 
superiority — when  I  was  a  candidate  for  our  leegis- 
later,  or  may  be  youd  call  it  legis'-latoore  ?  some  folks 
do — an'  bein'  one  o'  the  se'-lectmen,  I  was  in  the 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

school-committee,  says  I  to  master  Smith  says  I,  who 
cares  for  Noah  Webster,  says  I,  or  his  THIRD  PART 
eyther  says  I — or  for  Perry's  dicksonary — I've  gut  as 
good  a  right  to  my  pernouncyashun  as  they  have  to 
theirn,  says  I,  ary  one  of  em,  says  I — T-Z-A-R, — T 
stands  for  T.  dont  it? — and  Z-A-R  spells  Zar,  dont 
it? — an'  that  makes  Teazer,  if  I  aint  most  plaguily 
mistaken. 

Precisely,  said  Gage.  And  if  you  are  ever  on  the 
school-committee  again,  I  advise  you  to  try  them  all 
round  with  that  very  word.  See  if  they  can  spell  it 
after  you,  or  pronounce  it  either. 

Work  em  about  right,  hey  ?  plaguy  tough  fellows 
some  on  'em  though  ;  take  most  any  word  apart  ever 
you  see,  and  put  it  together  again  full  as  good  as  'twas 
afore — an'  sometimes  better.  Tried  him  once  with 
tremendyous — and  squire  Joe  Smith  he  yaw  hawed 
right  out,  and  said  he'd  be  most  particularly  dum- 
squizzled  if  there  was  any  sich  a  word.  Putty  feller 
for  a  squire,  wannt  he  ?  an'  a  'chool  committee-man 
loo  !  But  1  guess  I  paid  him  well  for  it,  afore  I  was 
done  with  him.  Next  year  he  might  'a  been  governor, 
with  a  salary  o'  six  hunderd  dollars  a  year — 

And  found  1  said  Gage. 

An'  found  ?  no  indeed — find  himself — putty  good 
wages  too,  I  should  say;  for  my  part  I  offered  to 
take  it  for  half  price  and  give  the  balance  towards  a 
new  meetin'-house — but  bein'  a  lawyer,  he  might  'a 
had  the  whool,  an  ben  allowed  somethin'  hansum  to 
boot  for  wear  an'  tear. 

Washing  and  mending,  you  mean,  hey  ?  said  Gage. 

JNo  I  don't  nyther — we  do  our  own  washin'  an* 
E 


50  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &.C. 

mendin'  where  I  live — all  the  representatyves,  and 
why  should'nt  the  governor? 

Taint  posserble !  said  Gage.  I  looked  at  him  in 
amazement.  You,  would'ntbelieve  it  possible  reader, 
for  such  a  man,  v./ith  such  a  face,  to  hoax  any  body 
alive — 

The  down-easter  went  on  describing  how  he  had 
managed  to  defeat  squire  Smith,  electioneering  against 
him  throughout  the  whole  neighbourhood ;  putty 
feller  for  a  governor  !  added  he,  when  he  had  got 
through — not  to  know  there  was  sich  a  word  as  tre- 
mendyous  ! 

Pray  sir,  said  the  little  Bostonian — turning  with  an 
air  of  authority  toward  Gage,  and  glancing  at  the 
bystanders,  as  if  to  prepare  them  for  a  triumph,  pray 
sir,  upon  what  ground, — if  you  are  serious, — do  you 
pretend  to  justify  the  pronunci-ation  of  that  word, 
Tzar  ? — if  you  are  serious,  I  say  ? 

If  I  am  serious — my  dear  sir  !  What  can  have  led 
you  to  suppose  me  not  serious  ?  The  true  sound  of 
the  ancient  C. — (I  began  to  be  puzzled  myself  here  : 
was  he  or  was  he  not  humbugging  a  brother  yankee  ? 
For  my  life,  I  could'nt  tell.) — Of  the  ancient  C.  has 
never  been  settled.  The  learned,  (with  a  bow — 
which  the  other  took  to  himself)  are  uncertain  to  this 
day,  whether  he  whom  we  call  caesar  was  not  called 
Kaesar  by  the  Romans.  The  emperor  of  Germany, 
the  direct  inheritor  of  the -title  you  know  (another 
bow)  is  called  der  Kaiser,  which  would  seem  to  justi 
fy  the  idea. — Odds  in  favor  of  Gage. 

To  be  sure,  but — and  here  the  other  began  to  look 
bewildered. 

But  then,  as  the  Italians  say  ladzaretto,  and  pen*- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &,C.  51 

siero,  for  lazzaretto  and  pensiero,  mixing  the  sounds 
of  d  and  t  with  those  of  z  and  5  like  the  Russians — 
another  bow — and  the  Russians  having  borrowed  the 
title  of  Caesar,  and  corrupted  it  by  their  horrible  or 
thography  into  Tzar  (speaking  faster  and  faster  every 
moment,  so  that  his  antagonist  had  no  way  of  escaping 
the  mystification)  I  confess  I  do  not  well  see  how  we 
can  avoid  following  them  so  far  at  least  as  to  call 
their  T,  by  its  right  name — T,  instead  of  C.  Three 
to  one  for  Gage. 

Nor  I  sir — nor  I — but  then  as  to  the  a — a —  I  want 
you  should  show  me,  that  is  to  say — Tor  where  the 
object  of  discussion  is  not  so  much  victory,  as  truth, 
we  had'nt  ought — appealing  to  the  company — never 
ought  I  should  say — blushing  to  the  eyes  and  be 
ginning  to  switch  his  boots  with  his  pocket-handker 
chief — to  take  too  much  for  granted  as  Butler  says — 
ever  read  Butler's  analogy  sir?  or  Adam  Smith,  or 
the  Spectator ? 

Precisely  sir — I  agree  with  you  there,  said  Gage ; 
but  then,  Rome  was  not  built  in*  a  day  ! — and  he 
looked  about  him  with  such  a  knowing  air,  that  several 
of  the  bystanders  began  to  wag  their  heads  at  one 
another,  as  much  as  to  say — what  a  snag  of  a  fellow 
at  an  argument  !  all  to  nothing  for  Gage — no 
betters. 

And  moreover,  continued  he,  addressing  himself 
anew  with  a  deferential  bow  to  his  antagonist — I 
have  an  idea,  and  I  should  be  happy  to  have  your 
opinions  upon  the  subject  sir. — I  have  an  idea  that 
the  languages  of  Europe  abound  in  similar  corrup 
tions — why  may  we  not  have  the  Teazer  of  Russia, 
as  well  as  the  Dolphin  of  France,  the  Clam  of 
Tartary  and  the  Dog  of  Venice  ? 


52  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C. 

The  clam  of  Tartary,  and  the  dog  of  Venice  ! 
cried  the  other;  as  if,  notwithstanding  the  perfect 
simplicity  and  good-faith  of  Gage's  countenance,  he 
had  begun  to  suspect  for  the  first  time,  that  we  were 
laughing  at  him.  And  what  might  have  been  the 
consequences  but  for  an  accidental  interruption,  I 
would  not  take  upon  myself  to  say  :  for  he  grew  very 
pale  about  the  mouth,  and  there  was  an  angry  flash 
ing  of  his  bright  blue  eyes  that  indicated  a  dangerous 
temper.  A  hundred  to  one  offered ;  no  takers. 

1  presume  sir*  said  a  tall  thin  awkward  man  with 
knock-knees,  and  green  goggles  and  protruding  eyes, 
fugging  out  his  pocket-handkerchief  with  a  violent 
flourish,  and  stepping  up  to  Gage — I  presume  sir,  that 
you  have  never  been  in  Rooshy — speaking  in  a  very 
sharp  key,  and  so  as  to  attract  every  body's  attention 
— pulling  off  his  goggles  and  wiping  them  so  carefujly., 
with  his  teeth  clenched  and  his  queer-looking  eyes 
roving  about  over  all  our  faces  with  an  expression  of 
cool  confidence  which  had  a  very  unfavorable  effect 
upon  those,  wh  j,  hut  a  moment  before,  had  been  ready 
to  hurra  for  Gage, — have  you  sir  ? — bets  equal  for 
the  new  comer. 

Never,  said  Gage,  without  any  change  of  counte 
nance — never. 

Well  sir—  —I  have  ! 

The  devil  you  have  !  said  Gage ;  with  an  air  of  such 
unaffected  astonishment,  as  to  deceive  me  for  a  while. 
Gage  losing  favor. 

Yes  sir!  straightening  himself  up,  replacing  the 
goggles,  withdrawing  his  feelers  and  giving  his  pocket- 
handkerchief  another  deliberate  and  circumstantial 
flourish,  (five  to  four  against  Gage)  and  there  they 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  53 

pronounce  the  word — give  me  leave  to  tell  you  sir — 
Tzar — and  not  Teazer 

With  all  my  heart,  answered  Gage ;  but  give  me 
leave  to  ask  you  sir — what  does  that  prove  ?  Bets 
even. 

Prove  sir — prove  ?  said  the  other,  shifting  his  feet 
once  or  twice,  changing  his  pocket-handkerchief  no 
less  than  five  times  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  and 
taking  off  and  putting  on  his  goggles  three  times, 
before  he  had  worked  out  the  answer — wiping  them 
every  time  and  appealing  to  each  of  the  different  by 
standers  by  turns,  with  a  peering  into  his  very  eyes  that 
diverted  me  inexpressibly — Prove  sir? — why  sir,  it 
proves  that  if  the  Italians  do  say  Ladzaretto,  that's* 
no  reason  why  other  people  should  say  Teazer! 

Indeed  !  said  Gage,  and  bets  were  all  going  the 


other  way. 
Ah, 


ha  ! — there  yqu  have  him  !  said  the  other 
antagonist ! — answer  me  that  if  you  can  !  whispered 
a  third.  That's  into  yer,  a  few  !  I  ruther  guess ! 
cried  a  fourth.  The  current  was  evidently  setting 
hard  in  favor  of  the  new  comer. 

Why  sir,  continued  Gage,  if  you  mean  to  infer  that 
pronunciation  of  the  word  to  be  right,  because  they 
pronounce  it  so  in  Russia,  then  you  would  justify 
every  sort  of  corruption,  every  sort  of  pronunciation  ; 
the  Scotch,  the  Welsh,  the  Irish,  and  the  Yankee — in 
talking  English  as  they  do  :  For  they  do  what  ? — just 
exactly  what  the  Russians  do,  borrow  other  peoples 
words,  appropriate  them  to  their  own  use,  without 
leave  or  license,  and  spoil  them.  And  then  forsooth, 
we  are  to  follow  their  example,  are  we  ?  If  they 
cannot  spell,  we  must'nt — if  they  spell  Caeaar  with  a 
£  2 


54  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

T,  we  must,  hey  ?  Hourra  for  you !  cried  a  by 
stander,  give  it  to  him  Gage  !  One  more  round  my 
boy  and  the  game's  up  ! 

My  own  idee  'gzackly  !  cried  the  school-committee- 
man. 

Not  a  fair  case  though,  answered  the  man  with  the 
goggles — by  no  manner  o'  means  ;  wunt  allow  it, 
nor  touch  to  !  As  if  them  that  use  a  word  most  are 
not  likely  to  know  best?  Getting  wild — into  him 
Gage !  One  hundred  to  five — no  taker. 

Do  we  always  find  it  so  in.  point  of  fact?  continued 
the  imperturbable  Gage.  Did  you  ever  hear  a  me 
chanic  say  le'-ver?  Don't  they  all  say  lev'  er?  even 
the  watchmaker  and  the  rnachinest,  with  their  patent 
lev-vers.  Do  you  know  a  single  navigator  who 
does'nt  say  hor'-izon  for  hori'zon,  a  painter  or  draw 
ing-master  who  does't  say  a'riel  for  a-erial  ?  a  school 
master  who  does'nt  say  pronun-ci-a-tion  insteau  of 
pronunshiation,  though  he  never  thinks  of  saying 
offi-ci-al,  but  oflishal ;  a  lawyer  who  does'nt  say  to- 
Bummons  for  to  summon,  evidence  for  witness, 
ten'-ure  for  te'nure,  and  perhaps  recon'nizance,  for 
fecog'-nizance ;  a  builder  who  does'nt  say  pylaster 
for  pilaster,  or  a  lover  of  back-gammon  who  does'nt 
play  the  "very  devil  with  the  names  of  the  throws, 
however  well  he  may  speak  French  at  other  times-  — 
Baying  tray-ace,  and  syzes,  and  deuces  and  kayters — 
I  might  go  through  with  soeiety  in  the  same  way. 

The  man  with  the  goggles  had  nothing  to  say — he 
was  thunder-struck  at  the  volubility  and  seriousness 
and  readiness  of  Gage,  and  stood  staring  at  him, 
speechless  and  motionless,  with  his  mouth  wide  open* 
Fifty  to  one  on  Gage — all  to  nothing !  Time !  time ! 


THB    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C,  55 

— and  the  adversary  not  being  able  to  come  up, 
Gage  untied  his  handkerchief  and  jumped  over  th« 
ropes. 


CHAPNER   V. 

WAL  clone  you  'squire !  cried  the  se'-lect-man, 
clapping  Gage  on  the  back  with  tremendous  good 
will ;  Hooraw  for  you,.  I  say  !  gin'  it  to  'em  both  about 
right,  hey  ?  trig  little  feller  he  is  too — tho'  I  cant 
say  't  I  admire  to  see  peeked-toed  shoes,  or  a  man's 
eyes  rigged  out  with  spy-glasses  and  feelers — gut  a 
half-pistareen  about  you  frind  ? — hy tee  tytee!  turning 
to  another,  who  appeared  to  be  laboring  under  some 
fierce  emotion,  his  uppor  lip  working  after  the  manner 
of  Lord  Brougham's,  and  his  mouth  twitching  con~ 
vulsively  at  every  motion  of  his  head — who  are  you 

makin'  mouths  at,  hey  ? 

•  * 

God  bless  you,  my  friend,  whispered  I — the  poor 

fellow  cant  help  it. 

Cant  help  it!  why  not,  I  should  like  to  know? 

Why  don't  you  see,  whispered  another  yankee, 
he's  got  a  wry  mouth.. 

/tye-mouth — rye-an-injunn  more"  like. 

What  more  could  I  say  ?  All  further  explanation 
would  be  useless ;  and  to  tell  the  truth,  I  could  not 
help  agreeing  with  the  man  as  to  the  sort  of  mouth 
before  us,  much  as  I  pitied  the  proprietor. 

Everlastin'  hot  weather  !  Tiint  it  you  ?  continued  tho 
down-easter ;  'nough  to  try  out  a  side  o'sole-lcather  ; 
for  my  part,  I'm  all  runnin'  away. 

Taint  the  fuss  time  nyther,  I'll  bate  f  said  the  man 
with  the  unfortunate  mouth  ;  and  then  turning  toward 
a  fellow-passenger,  he  continued,  as  if  renewing  a 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  57 

conversation  about  a  murder  which  had  occured  the 
day  before  at  Philadelphia,  I'm  no  frind  to  capital 
punishment,  an'  never  was  ;  but  if  ever  a  feller 
desarved  to  be  frittered  in  two  with  a  hansaw,  that 
feller  dooze. 

Sarved  her  right !  cried  another ;  and  then  after 
running  himself  entirely  out  of  breath,  he  protested 
the  man  had  no  right  to  be  hung;  while  another 
declared,  with  equal  appropriateness  of  language,  that 
such  a  cold  blooded  murder  was  ridiculous,  and  that 
the  man  ought  to  be  hung  right  away — had'nt  ought 
to  live  another  hour. 

The  eyes  of  both  were  turned  upon  Gage.  I'm  of 
your  opinion  said  he,  speaking  to  the  last — nothing 
can  be  more  ridiculous  than  cutting  a  woman's  throat 
in  her  sleep — in  the  dead  of  night. 

Ah — ha  !  what  did  I  tell  you?  cried  the  individual 
whose  opinion  he  had  so  handsomely  adopted.  And 
I  agree  with  you,  also,  continued  Gage,  turning  to  the 
other,  the  poor  fellow  has  no  right  to  be  hung,  and  I 
dare  say  if  he  were  hard  pushed,  he  would  own  it 
himself — or  give  it  up,  if  you  were  to  try  him  at  the 
foot  of  the  gallows. 

There  now — what  did  I  tell  you  !  cried  the  other. 

I  say—you  ! — mister ! — shouted  the  man  with  the 
nose,  rounding  to,  as  he  happened  to  see  apassen- 
ger  at  work  upon  his  lips  with  a  spunge  dipped 
in  sweet-oil.  They  were  dreadfully  chapped.  I  say  £ 
try  some  o'  this  ere  lip-salve,  wont  ye  ?  had'nt  y* 
better?  allays  care  some  on't  about  me — slickest 
stuff  for  piles  ever  you  see  !  lugging  out  the  identical 
box  we  had  seen  before,  and  offering  the  blue  pig 
ment  to  the  sufferer. 
• 


68  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Faugh  ! — cried  the  other — should  our  engine  get 
out  of  order,  your  panacea  might  come  in  play  there 
again  ! 

Te  be  sure  ! — take  a  notch  out  of  a  broad-axe  in 
less  'an  three  wipes  ;  did'nt  I  tell  ye  so — have 
some  ? 

Go  to  the  devil  with  your  nasty  trumpery ! — 

Frind  ! — I  meant  no  offence,  an'  I'm  sorry  for  it; 
but  if  you'll  allow  me  to  express  my  opinion,  I  should 
Bay  that  a  lectle  o'  that  are — a  very  leetle — scooping 
out  as  much  as  he  could  with  his  thumb-nail,  and 
holding  it  up — not  more  'an  you'd  want  to  soap  a 
griss-mill  with — jess  slicked  over  your  lips,  inside 
an?  out,  you'd  be  a  much  easier  man  for  the  rest  o' 
the  day;  an'  talk  more  to  other  people's  satisfaction. 

And  then,  having  sahl  this,  he  walked  off,  enjoying 
the  half-suppressed  laugh  that  broke  forth  at  intervals 
for  five  minutes  afterwards,  with  the  most  innocent 
look  you  ever  saw.  After  a  while  he  crossed  my 
path  again — Hullow!  said  he;  don't  care  if  I  do  take 
another  nip  o'  your  snuff,  seein'-ts  you! 

I  reached  him  the  box,  and  my  gentleman,  after 
opening  it  as  far  as  it  would  go  and  rapping  the  kiver 
as  he  called  it,  and  shaking  it — as  a  puppy  would  an 
old  hat — and  tipping  it  up,  first  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other,  till  his  forefinger  and  thumb,  already 
prepared  for  the  business  by  the  lip-salve,  had  corner- 
jed  the  last  pinch  there  was  left — as  the  dog  Billy 
would  the  rats;  and  then,  without  the  slightest  com 
punction  or  hesitation,  availing  himself  of  the  ad 
vantage,  so  that  none  escaped,  he  slicked  it  all  up, 
and  returning  the  box — he  said  he  ruther  guessed  I 
want  very  fond  o'  snuff — only  cared  a  box  for  fashion- 


verv  loi 

' 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &-C.    &C.  59 

sake!  and  then,  after  a  short  pause  and  a  laugh  or  two 
which  set  my  ears  ringing,  he  added — proper  snarl 
o'  folks  here  aint  they  ?  Wonder  how  much  the 
skipper — here  he  turned  to  a  neighbor — how  goes  it 
Nathan  ?  Cleverly,  I'm  obleege  to  ye  ;  how  goes  it 
with  yourself? — wonder  h"w  much  he  gits  a  year, 
privilege,  pci  quisytes  an'  all  hey  1  putty  good  bairth 
I'm  a  thinkin',  if  they  let  him  drive  on  sheers,  an'  I 
rather  guoss  they  do  by  all  accounts;  ever  ben-over 
the  Bay  State  or  Varmount  ? 

Never,  said  I. 

I'm  sure  I've  seen  you  tho',  or  somebody  plaguy 
like  you,  haint  I? 

Quite  possible. 

Quite  posserble,  hey  !  more  'n  that  I  rather  guess — 
why,  you  look  as  naiteral,  as  the  nigger  said — don't 
know  yer  name  though  ? 

No. 

Somewhere  in  the  back-parts  o'  New-Hampshire 
may  be  ? 

May  be  so. 

Wai !  I  thought  so— I  swamp  it  if  I  did'nt !  felt 
considerble  acquainted  with  you  from  the  very  fust — 
what  may  I  call  your  name? 

What  you  please. 

Ah  ! oh you  aint  mad  nor  nothin'  I  hope. 

Not  in  the  least. 

Wai  then — can't  ye  tell  a  feller  yer  name  ? 

Pretty  fair !  said  I  in  a  voice  intended  for  Gage, 
who  stood  near  me,  with  his  arms  folded,  leaning 
over  the  rail  and  evidently  enjoying  the  6tttechism  of 
the  down-easter. 

Ah,  but  your  chrisa'n  name  :  your  given  name  ? 


60  THE    DOWN    EA8TERS,    &C.    &C. 

Peter. 

Peter  ! — Peter  ? — ah,  I  know  I'd  seen  you  afore — 
somewhere  !  travellin'  hey  ?  ben  to  Pheladelphy  ? 

I  bowed. 

\Val,  I  say  though,  Mr.  Putty — putty — putty — 
quair  name  tho'  that  o'  yourn  by  the  hokey  !  as  ever  I 
come  across. 

Pooty-far — pooty-far  ? — drollest  name  ever  I  heard, 
make  the  best  on't  though — taint  none  of  your  choosin' 
I  spose — bear  it  like  a  good  feller,  thats  the  way, 
never  know'd  many  o'  that  name  in  our  part  o'  the 
world. 

What !  never  heard  o'  the  Potiphar  family  !  cried 
Gage. 

Lord  you  !  that  I  have  !  Speakin'  o'  names  though, 
there'll  be  a  fight  aboard,  afore  long. 

A  fight !  said  I,  rather  alarmed  I  confess  at  the 
abrupt  communication  of  what  I  dreaded  more  than 
any  earthly  thing — a  fight  in  a  crowd.  I  hope  not. 

O,  but  there  will  tho'.  That  air  long  chap  there 
from  Tennessee,  he's  ben  havin'  a  spat  with  the 
capun  about  you  mister  (looking  at  Gage)  and  he  vowa 
he'll  whip  you  as  soon  as  he  gits  you  ashore. 

I  looked  at  Gage.  His  countenace  never  altered, 
and  he  replied  in  such  a  quiet  natural  manner,  that  I 
believed  him,  when  he  said — You  are  under  a  mistake, 
my  friend  ;  it  cannot  be  with  me  that  he  would  quarrel. 
I  have  had  nothing  to  say  to.him. 

Thats  the  very  reason  !  He  swears  he'll  take  the 
stiffenin'  out  o'  you — an'  that  air  little  southerner. 

Which  little  southerner !  demanded  Gage  in  quit* 
another  voice.  It  startled  me,  and  when  I  looked  up, 
he  was  leaning  forward  with  lighted  eyes  and  tremb- 


THE    DOWN    E ASTERS,    &C.    &C.  61 

ling  very  hard — his  hand  shook  too,  I  saw  that,  as  it 
lay  spread  out  on  the  bench,  with  its  rigid  sinews  and 
square  muscles  in  action.  It  was  like  the  paw  of  a 
wild-beast  for  strength,  and  gloriously  fashioned. 

Why  that  are  chap  you  was  with  below,  said  the 
Down-Easter. 

Gerard  Middleton,  hey  ? 

Do  tell ! — is  that  his  name  ? 

Take  the  stiffnin'  out  o'  Gerard  Middleton will 

he? 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  expression  of  that  man's 
face,  when  he  uttered  these  two  brief  words — will  he  ! 
It  made  me  catch  my  breath.  He  got  up  and  walked 
away  after  saying  this,  and  when  I  looked  again  I  saw 
him  in  close  conversation  with  the  down-easter,  in  a 
distant  part  of  the  vessel  where  they  could  not  be 
overheard. 

If  they  go  to  kickin  up  a  dust  here,  they'd  better 
look  out — that's  all,  said  somebody  at  my  elbow,  who 
appeared  to  understand  my  very  thoughts — it  was  the 
swapper  against  whom  I  had  been  cautioned. — I  know 
a  feller  'twould  whip  the  whool  boodle  of  'em  an' 
give  'em  six — an'  there  he  goes  now !  ever  hear  tell 
o'  Gage — AthertonGage? — that's  the  very  man;  rather 
too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  be  sure,  but  he  can't 
help  that — runs  in  the  blood,  naitral  to  the  family — 
old  Jerry  P.  R.  Gage  was  the  biggest  gentleman  ever 
you  see,  an'  so's  the  whole  bylin'  of  'em. 

Atherton  Gage  said  I — you  must  be  mistaken  ;  his 
name  is  Nehemiah. 

Nehemiah ! — Nehemiah  Gage  ! — Nehemiah  Fiddle 
stick  !  don't  I  know  ? 

But  I  heard  him  say  so — it  must  be  Nehemiah  ? 


62  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C. 

I  tell  ye  taint.  His  rayal  name  is  Atherton  Gage — 
his  mothers  name's  Atherton,  but  jess  for  the  fun  o' 
the  thing  sometimes  he  calls  himself  Nehemiah,  or 
Peltiah,  or  Hezekiah,  or  some  such  old-fashioned 
name.  He's  rayal  Yankee,  I  tell  ye  ! — clear  grit — an' 
smooth  as  ile  ;  slick  as  grease,  we  say.  Why  where 
've  you  ben  all  your  life,  not  to  hear  tell  o'  Atherton 
Gage — son  of  old  deacon  Jerry  P.  R.  Gage  of  Quam- 
phegan  ?  best  wrastler  in  all  New-England  ;  gwin' 
right  away  inter  Kentucky,  jess  to  have  a  try  there 
with  some  o'  them  air  fellers  that's  brought  up  to 
Ingeen-hug  among  the  bears,  an'  if  you  ever  bate, 
I'll  bate  ye  any  thing  you  like  in  reason — an'  plank 
the  money  too — which  as  I  was  a  sayin' — Old  rugged- 
an'-tough  they  used  to  call  his  dad,  famous  wrastler 
he  was  too,  warped  with  hoop-poles  an'  filled  with 
oven-wood ;  beatemest  feller  ever  you  see  for  some 
things — ought  to  go  by  the  name  of  old  say-nothin' 
away  from  our  part  o'  the  country,  but  when  he's  to 
home  (talking  very  slowly  and  quietly,  and  eying  my 
watch-fob  all  the  time) — why  Lord  you  !  he's  a 
match  for  gab  with  any  body  't  ever  you  come  across 
—getting  hold  of  my  hat  and  blowing  up  the  fur  and 
examining  every  part  of  it,  inside  and  out,  and  glanc 
ing  every  now  and  then  at  his  own,  which  he  had 
rigged  out  with  a  new  hat-case  and  stowed  away 
under  the  chair.  But  as  you're  from  Feladelphy — 
what  a  pocky  tarnal  great  place  that  must  be !  by  all 
accounts,  may  be  you  can  tell  us  how  dry-goods  in 
jinral  is  there ? 

Dry-goods  ? 

Yes — needles  an'  pins,  and  calico  and  cultery  an' 
•o  forth  and  so  forth — putty  good  cloth  that  o'  yourn 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  63 

—for  war-times — laying  his  hand  on  the  sleeve  of  my 
coat,  and  smoothing  down  the  nap — who's  your 
maker  ? 

My  Maker  ! — Oh,  I  understand  you — my  tailor  you 
mean  ? 

Yis — who  made  your  cote  ?  Is  that  a  Feladelphy 
hat  o'  yourn,  though  ?  What  do  they  come  at  there, 
cash  on  the  nail  ?  'Spose  abody  was  to  take  three 
or  four  right  out,  and  say  no  more  about  it — whool- 
sale — hey  ? 

I  do  not  know. 

My  stars  !  why  didt'nt  you  say  't  you'd  come  from 
Feladelphy  ? 

So  I  did — but  as  I  do  rot  live  there,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  answer  such  questions . 

New  York  then,  hey  ? 

No. 

Albany  ? 

T  shook  my  head. 

Or  New-Haven  ? — or  Providence  ? — or  Boston  ? — 
or 

No  sir — no  sir 

Or  Salem  ? — or  Newberyport  ? — or  Portsmuth  ? — 
beginning  to  say  over  Morse's  Gazetteer,  page  by 

Page- 
No  !  no  !  no  !    said  I,  speaking  as  fast  as  I  could, 
and  enjoying  his  look  of  amazement  and  perplexity — 
put  on  for  the  occasion  I  believe  now — more  than  I 
ought  perhaps,  if  it  was  not. 

Well  then !  drawing  a  long  breath,  and  beginning 
to  admire  my  boots — where  upon  airth  do  ye  live  !  I 
shouldlike  to  know,  laying  his  foot  alongside  of  mine, 
and  turning  it  this  way  and  that,  as  he  pursued  the 


64  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

investigation,  either  to  satisfy  himself  about  the  com 
parative  size  of  our  feet,  or  to  make  me  observe  that 
his  boots,  evidently  new,  were  topped  off  in  the 
highest  fashion  of  the  day. 

Live — said  I — in  reply  to  the  last  interrogation — 
here  and  there,  and  every  where ;  in  other  words — 
no  where. 

Jess  so  !  and  then  after  a  long  pause — where  do 
ye  stay  then  ?  Where  do  ye  keep  ? 

No  where. 

Wai !  you're  more'n  a  match  for  me,  I'll  say  that 
for  ye  any  how  !  another  long  pause,  but  only  long 
enough  to  breathe  our  indefatigble  down-easter  for 
another  attack — . 

Aint  the  wandering  jew,  air  ye  ?  and  then,  instantly 
aware  that  he  had  overacted  his  part,  he  added ;  you're 
from  tother  side  arter  all,  I'm  a'  thinkin'  ? 

'Tother  side  T 

From  over  there — away  yenrtar.  pointing  to  the 
high-seas.  What  do  ye  pay  for  sech  a  pair  o'  boots 
as  them  in  Eurup?  Newest  fashion  there — all  the 
kick  I  spose,  hey  ? 

I  laughed — I  could  not  help  it — laughed  aloud, 
and  long  and  heartily.  But  he  was  no  way  dis 
concerted. 

Wai  I  thought  so !  if  I  did'nt  there's  none  o'  me, 
thats  all !  more  n  two  hours  ago,  says  I  to  capin  Trip 
says  I,  capin  !  says  I ;  thaf  air  chap  there  with  the 
gool  watch,  he's  from  the  old  country,  if  he  aint,  I'll 
eat  a  grin-stone — -jess  so  /  an'  whats  mure  say*  I, 
that  air  hat  he's  gut  on,  aint  a  rayal  beaver  hat  no  more 
'n  you  air,  says  I — nothin'  but  a  silk  hat  says  I — an' 
then,  says  I,  capin  Trip,  says  I — jess  look  o'  them. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  65 

eloth  stockins  outside  o'  his  shoe  (eying  my  drab 
gaiters) — any  body  might  know. 

Cloth  stockings  outside  of  my  shoes — the  rascal  f 

Capin  Trip,  says  I,  any  body  might  know,  says  T. — 
did'nt  I  mister?  (to  the  man  at  the  wheel)  that  he's 
from  tother  side — or  (lowering  his  voice)  or  wants  to 
be  thought  so ;  and  whats  more  'an  all  that,  says  I — 
he  dooz'nt  seem  a  mite  afeard  o'  the  man'  o'  war's- 
man  off  there  't  we  passed  as  tight  as  we  could  spring 
— and  you  know  you  did'nt ! — and  what's  more  yit, 
says  I,  he  never  says  nothrn'  about  the  war  says  Ir 
an'  when  he  seed  leetle  Georgee,  says  I,  an  old 
Tennessee  says  I,  jess  goin'  to  pull  hair,  says  I,  he 
would'nt  hourraw  for  nyther  side,  says  I — jess  so  ! 

Nor  did  you,  sir,  if  you  mean  the  foolish  dispute 
below. 

Not  I,  you  may  depend !  a  leetle  too  fur  east,  I 
ruther  guess  for  them  sort  o'  didoes.  When  the 
southerners  come  to  a  close  grip  with  one  another,, 
what  do  we  care  ?  don't  they  keep  a  hunderd  or  two 
o'  great  nasty  bull-niggers  a  piece,  jess  to  sharpen 
their  knives  on — without  a  rag  to  kiver  'em,  starving 
*em  most  to  death  all  the  time,  an'  lettin'  their  wo 
men  folks  and  babies  slash  'em  up  with  case-knives, 
for  jess  nothin'  at  all,  an  massacree  *em  most  to  death, 
when  there's  company  to  dinner,  jess  to  sehw  'em  what 
they  can  do?  Haint  they  sold  their  own  flesh  an' 
blood  many  a  time  to  get  money  for  a  cock-fight  or  a 
boss-race? — do'nt  we  know  'em  of  old?  Thats  what 
they  call  gettin'  the  yeller-boys  ,  I  spose — I've  been 
there,  an'  I've  heern  'em  say  so  many  a  time  ;  pocky 
tarnal  shame!  butter  my  hide  if  taint;  an'  what 
should  we  care,  comin'  from  a  land  o'  liberty  wher« 

F2 


66  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

there  aint  no  niggers  to  speak  of,  when  we  see  secle 
folks  fall  together  T>y  the  ears — where  there's  hun 
dreds  an'  thousands  on  'em  taint  washed  from  one 
years  eend  to  another,  an  go  about  the  houses  thicker 
'n  the  frogs  in  Ejup,  an'  a  plaguy  deal  nastier — I've 
ben  there,  I  tell  ye,  an'  I  know  what  I'm  sayin'  of — 
which  it  is  no  wonder  we  love  to  see  the  feather& 
fly. 

And  why  so  pray  ? 

Why  so !  Why  what  business  has  the  niggers 
there  ?  Let  them  that  likes  'em  have  'em,  I  say : 
An'  if  they  go  to  quarlin'  about  'em,  an'  cuttin'  one 
another's  throats,  whose  business  is  it  ?  Not  ourn  I'm 
sure.  We  told  'em  how  twould  be,  long  enough 
ago.  •  >_fV 

Yet  in  your  part  of  the  country,  you  are  not  over 
friendly  to  the  blacks — /  believe — said  somebody  in  a 
quiet  mild  voice,  at  our  very  elbow.  It  was  Middle- 
ton  himself. 

Frindly !  what  dye  ye  mean  by  that?  do  ye  think 
we  keep  company  with  niggers,  or  make  frinds  of 
'em,  hey? 

And  why  not,  if  they  are  well-behaved  I 

A  nigger  well-behaved !  guess  you  don't  know 
what  your  talkin'  about  mister. 

Or  a  mulatto- 

Jess  as  bad — all  alike  I  tell  ye;  aint  a  copper  to 
choose  betwixt  'em — if  there^s  a  drop  o'  nigger-blood 
in  'em,  they'll  always  show  it  in  their  temper. 

How  in  their  temper  ? 

How  in  their  temper  ?  Why  you  know  as  well  as 
me — they're  right  down  ugly  when  theyre  mad,  clear 
niggerish.  Why  taint  more'n  a  month  ago  t'  I  heard 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &G.  6T 

a  great  he-nigger  tell  a  white  man  that  if  he  struck 
him  with  his  whip,  hed  split  his  head  open  with  the 
axe — why,  in  our  part  o'  the  country  they  think 
themselves  most  as  good  as  white  folks,  every  bit 
election-days. 

And  what  if  they  do — if  they  are  otherwise  well- 
behaved — you  tax  them,  dont  you  ? 

Tax  'em  !  to  be  sure  we  do  ;  they  are  free-niggers 
that  way. 

Do  you  ever  put  them  into  the  jury-box? 

Into  the  jury-box — haw,  haw,  haw  ! 

Or  into  the  militia  ? 

Into  the  militia  !  Why  frind,  you  dont  seem  to 
know  much  about  New-England — who  do  ye  think 
would  train  along  side  a  pesky  nigger,  in  a  free 
country — in  the  dog-days. 

Or  a  mulatto 

Yes,  or  a  mulatto  eyther,  down  to  the  fortyeth 
generation. 

Do  you  ever  allow  them  to  visit  you  ? 

Visit  me  ! — niggers  visit  me  ! — I'll  tell  you  what 
tis  frind,  if  you  are  pokin'  fun  at  a  feller- — you'd 
better  find  somethin'  else  to  do,  that's  all ! 

But  I  am  perfectly  serious.  I  am  only  asking  a 
few  questions,  which  I  hope  you  are  good-natured 
enough  to  answer,  as  civilly  as  they  are  put. 

Oh,  wal !  if  thats  what  you're  divin'  at — whip 
away. 

Do  even  the  poorest  and  most  worthless  of  your 
white  men  ever  associate  freely  with  the  blacks  or 
mulattos  in  your  part  of  the  country  1 

Why  no!  I  tell  ye.  They  wunt  eat  together  nor 
play  together,  nor  sleep  in  the  same  room  together  if 


68  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

they  can  help  it ;  and  our  overseers  o'  the  poor  would 
be  ashamed  to  ask  it,  when  they're  a  town-charge. 

Are  the  children  of  colored  people  admitted  to  the 
same  benches  with  the  whites  in  your  free  schools — 

On  the  same  benches  !  By  gimini !  if  I  should'nt 
like  to  see  sambo  Smith's  boys  cipherin'  along  aside 
o'  mine  at  our  town-school !  I  guess  I'd  have  a  word 
to  say  to  master  Cobb  an'  the  school  committee  too  1 
an'  the  select  men !  Putty  fellers  to  be  sure  ! 

But  who  is  Sambo  Smith? 

What !  never  hearn  tell  o'  Sambo  Smith  !  he  twas 
out  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  tho'  he  was  only  a 
hired  man  o'  gineral  Green,  he  fit  the  innimy  more  in 
three  hours  one  arternoon,  with  ony  one  other  great 
lazy  good-for-nothin'  nigger  't  had  lost  his  arm  to 
help  him — old  Cato  Frost — you  see  old  Cato  laid 
down  in  the  grass  an'  bit  off  the  catriges  and  primed 
the  guns,  fust  one  and  then  tother,  as  Sambo  blazed 
away  at  'em  out  o'  the  stone-mill,  where  old  Put  had 
left  some  flour  for  the  continentals — no  idea  afore 
'at  ever  Sambo  had  shot  off  a  gun  ;  killed  ever  so 
many  o'  the  troopers  afore  they'd  give  up,  some  said 
eighteen  or  twenty  ;  others  not  so  much,  though  some 
was  carried  off,  my  dad  says,  and  he  was  out  the 
whool  war,  that  six  bodies  was  found  arterwards,  in 
the  bushes  an'  among  the  logs  in  the  river. 

Ah! — yet  this  man — who_pays  taxes — and  is  free- 
born  perhaps  of  free  parents? 

So  I've  hearn  tell. 

What  kind  of  a  character  does  he  bear? 

What  kind  of  a  character?  O,  good  enough  for  a 
nigger,  I  tell  ye ;  works  hard  as  any  body  and  brings 
up  gran  children  like  the  rest  of  us;  owes  nobody 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,   &C.    &C.  69 

nothin',  takes  off  his  hat  to  every  body  he  sees  when 
he  goes  to  the  corner,  never  drinks  a  drop,  nor  swears 
a  word,  an'  they  do  say  is  a  rayal  Christian — belongs 
to  the  church  too. 

Ah,  a  member  of  the  church ! 

Oh  ! — yes  ! 

Do  they  allow  him  to  sit  side  by  side,  with  the 
white  communicants  at  the  communion-table  1 

What !— in  a  tone  of  unqualified  amazement ;  and 
then  all  at  once  perceiving  the  drift  of  Middleton's 
questioning,  he  added — Why  no  !  the  nigger'd  rather 
take  his  'lowance  in  the  porch — I've  hearn  him 
say  so. 

And  so  they  let  him  take  his  allowance  in  the  porch, 
hey — like  Lazarus. 

O,  but — ahem !  old  Sambo,  he's  gettin'  old  now 
'an  he'd  a  little  ruther  not  go  to  the  table,  / 
know. 

And  rather  not  serve  upon  the  jury,  or  train  with 
the  militia  perhaps— even  before  he  grew  old? 

To  be  sure  !  The  nigger'd  only  be  laughed  at,  if 
he  was  to  be  darned  fool  enough  to  sarve. 

You  let  him  go  to  the  polls  I  hope  ? 

Oh! yes!  We  all'ys  care  him  up — parties  ben 

putty  equally  divided,  so  good  an'  so  good,  in  our 
town  this  five  years,  an'  Sambo  gets  a  ride  every 
year,  one  side  o'  tother ;  stuffiest  nigger  ever  you  see 
tho' !  Wunt  vote  for  nobody  't  he  dont  like,  no 
matter  who  gives  him  a  recommend  ;  and  what's  more 
nigger  than  all  that,  he  wont  tell  aforehand  which 
aide  he's  goin  to  vote  for,  and  sometimes  he  wunt 
vote  for  nyther,  an'  sometimes  he'll  vote  right  agin 
the  side  that  brung  him  up. 


70  THE    DOWN    EASTER8,    &C.    &C. 

Middleton  took  off  his  hat,  and  drew  himself  up, 
and  looked  about  him,  as  if  wondering  to  find^himself 
so  altogether  alone  as  he  appeared  to  be,  in  his  majestic 
admiration  of  old  Sambo  Smith — a  glow  of  indignant 
wrath  burning  all  over  his  forehead — in  the  depth  of 
his  large  dark  eyes,  and  about  his  firmly  shut  mouth, 
as  he  walked  proudly  away. 

Ah,  ha  !  gut  his  belly-full,  I  ruther  guess,  continued 
the  other;  don't  care  which  side  whips,  when  the 
nigger-drivers  falls  out  among  themselves  ;  an'  I  told 
'em  so — did'n  I  mister? — oh,  you're  in  the  sulks  agin 
I  see  ! — dont  care  for  that  though  ;  raial  down-easter 
I  tell  ye. 

And  how  do  you  know  but  I'm  a  down-easter? 

You  a  down-easter  !  eying  me  more  narrowly  then 
ever,  and  fumbling  for  his  pocket-handkerchief,  as  if 
to  assure  himself  that  all  was  safe,  before  he  ventured 
upon  a  more  particular  acquaintance — you  a  down- 
caster !  you!  shaking  his  head  slowly — very  slowly. 
Why  how  can  that  be?  Hamt  1  axed  you  one  by  one 
about  all  the  places  down-east,  where  a  feller  could 
find  sech  a  slick  fit  as  them  are — glancing  at  my  boots 
and  then  at  my  coat?  No,  no,  Mr.  Potiphar — Peter 
Potiphar  I  think  you  said? — thats  what  we  should 
call  a  snorter,  down-east.  Ah,  you  may  laugh!  laugh 
away ;  laugh  as  much  as  ever  ye  like,  but  I  want  you 
should  go  long  o'  me  to  the  map,  and  show  me  where 
yer  live.  Tell  you  what  "'tis  neighbor — I  can  see 
through  you. 

What  dye  mean  sir  ? 

Dont  I  know  ye !  an'  did'nt  I  say  so  when  ye  fust 
come  aboard  !  dont  talk  to  me — whizz  !  You  from 
down-east ! — putty  joke  faith  !  Do  you  play  chec- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  71 

kers  ?  or  fox  an'  geese  ? — or  morris  ? — or  all  fours? — 
or  shoe-make-loo  ? — or  te-to-tum  ? 

I  shook  my  head,  one  by  one,  to  this  string  of 
questions,  uttered  at  longer  and  longer  intervals,  in  a 
sharper  and  sharper  voice,  till  the  astonishment  of 
the  man  exhausted  itself  in  a  long  and  a  fixed  stare. 

Draw  cuts? — or  open  a  book  for  the  nighest  letter? 
or  chalk  the  floor,  hey?  or  jump  up  and  kick? 

I'm  yer  man  by  Gawd,  stranger !  I'm  the  boy  for 
any  thing  or  that  sort !  cried  the  tall  Tennessee 
youth,  who  had  kept  aloof  till  now,  lying  on  his  back 
by  the  hour,  with  a  long  nine  in  his  mouth  and  a  shot- 
belt  full  of  sugar  plums  dangling  over  his  breast. 
I'm  the  boy  for  that!  hourrra  !  run,  jump,  or  kick, 
wrastle  or  fight,  for  all  I  gut  here !  slapping  his 
breeches-pockets,  and  springing  up  with  a  loud  bois 
terous  laugh  that  sounded  not  unlike  the  half-smother 
ed  roar  of  a  good-natured  wild-beast — I'm  your  man 
for  all  that,  an'  half  the  plunder  about  ye  if  ye  dare! 
hurra  !  And  then  he  flung  a  handful  of  sugar-plums 
right  and  left  over  the  deck  where  a  group  of  children 
were  at  play. 

I  had  observed  him  at  the  breakfast-table,  eying  the 
dishes  with  a  wary  look,  and  fighting  shy  whenever 
he  was  helped — as  if  he  hated  the  very  knives  and 
forks  for  interfering  with  a  more  summary  method 
of  getting  into  what  he  called  the  '  belly-timber,'  after 
a  fashion  of  his  own — with  the  paws  of  a  she-bear, 
and  the  appetite  of  a  grist-mill.  Yet  he  was  a  good 
natured,  handsome,  savage-looking  fellow ;  and  at 
the  worst  only  a  rougher,  and  I  believe  in  my  heart, 
a  better  sort  of  Yankee,  with  more  manliness  and 
straight-forwardness  than  our  people  have  now. 


72  THE    DOWN   EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

While  I  was  trying  to  get  a  sketch  of  him,  as  he 
threw  himself  out  His  whole  length  over  the  bench, 
the  swapper  renewed  his  attack  on  me.  Fore-warned, 
fore-armed  thought  I,  and  I  determined  to  favor  him 
with  all  the  opportunity  he  could  wish. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

1  say  tho'  Mr.  Potipher,  thats  a  plaguy  neat  lookin' 
watch  o'  yourn  'ti  seed  ye  have ;  I  should  like  to  heft 
it,  if  you've  no  objection — I  put  my  watch  into  his 
hand,  without  a  word  of  remark — I  wonder  now  if 
you'd  mind  my  seem'  how'ts  put  together? — over 
hauling  it  and  hefting-  it  between  every  two  words, 
ransacking  it  inside  and  out,  seal,  chain,  clasp]  and 
guard,  but  so  cautiously  and  so  skilfully  as  to  show 
that  I  had  nothing  to  fear.  That  he  might  proceed 
with  the  investigation  more  at  his  leisure,  he  off  coat, 
rolled  up  his  shirt-sleaves,  loosened  his  shirt-collar, 
and  put  away  his  old  hat  with  a  deal  of  superfluous 
care,  and  actually  dropped  upon  his  *  heads  antipodes' 
while  the  boat  was  plunging  through  a  heavy  sea, 
much  to  the  amusement  of  the  fair  Elizabeth,  who 
had  been  clinging  to  the  rail  ever  since  the  departure 
of  Middleton,  with  desperate  strength,  and  looking 
overboard  with  half-shut  eyes  and  a  quivering  lip 
growing  paler  and  paler  at  every  plunge. 

After  he  had  taken  it  apart  and  put  it  together 
again — or  adopting  the  definition  of  the  other  down- 
easter  about  orthography — after  he  had  spelt  it,  as 
thoroughly  as  I  would  allow  him — using  only  a  tooth 
pick  and  a  ninepenny  whittler  as  he  called  the  knife 
he  made  use  of — he  shot  the  kiver  and  wiping  the  face 

•with  his  new  bandanna  as  affectionately  as  a  mother 
would  that  of  her  youngest  born  after  a  somerset  in  a 
duck-puddle — he  seemed  on  the  point  of  returning 


74  THE    DOWN    EA.STERS,    &C.    &C. 

the  watch — hesitated — withdrew  his  extended  aro), 
the  fingers  involuntarily  contracting  over  the  treasure 
— even  while  he  kept  saying,  there  she  is  frind  ! 
there  she  is  !  take  her,  and  never  say  'tive  hurt  her, 
hide  or  hair.  How  old  is  she? — not  that  I  want  you 
or  any  body  else  on  airth  to  tell  me  that ;  guess  I 
know  by  her  click,  about  as  well  as  any  body,  without 
lookin'  at  her  teeth 

Take  care !  said  I,  as  he  held  her  up,  and  swung 
her  round  by  the  chain  :  the  watch  is  at  your  risk — 
if  she  flies  off,  you  must  pay  for  her  ! 

I  pay  for  her !  What  for  ?  Wai,  wal,  I  spose  you 
know  more  about  the  law  'an  I  do  ;  dont  seem  to  rne 
to  be  altogether  fair  shakes  somehow  for  a  feller  to 
have  to  pay  jess  as  much  for  only  lookin'  at  her 
insides  a  minnit,  as  if  he'd  bought  her  right  out — slap 
dash — I'll  leave  it  to  ary  one  o'  you  if  tis  ? 

How  much  do  ye  offer?  askes  the  Tennessee-youth, 
who  had  been  capering  about  hither  and  thither  for 
the  last  quarter  of  an  hour,  like  a  dislocated  windmill 
*  adrift — under  an  idea  that  a  man  six  feet  high  was  a 
fool  to  be  sea-sick — how  much  '11  ye  give  stranger  ? 
And  then  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  added — You 
may  look  at  my  insides  for  half  the  money !  out 
whittler  if  ye  dare !  And  away  he  scampered  with 
both  hands  plastered  over  his  mouth — paws  I  might 
say,  though  he  did'nt  go  on  all  fours — toward  a  place 
where  he  told  me  afterwa'rds  he  threw  up  his  shoes 
and  stockings,  a  jacket  lined  with  tripe  (I  give  his 
own  language)  and  his  commission,  that  of  major  in 
the  mounted  militia,  which  he  had  torn  to  pieces  and 
swallowed  the  day  before  in  a  rage  with  his  briga 
dier,  for  saying  twa'nt  gentlemanly  to  spit  on  a 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C     &.C.  15 

hearth-rug,  or  to  blow  your  nose  with  your  fingers, 
and  wipe  them  on  your  pantaloons.  And  I'll 
leave  it  to  you,  stranger  !  said  he  as  he  wound  up  the 
story  of  his  affront — if  sich  a  feller  as  that's  fit  to  be 
a  brigadier  o'  the  mounted  rangers  ?  Taint  more  'an 
a  month  at  the  very  outside,  sense  he  turned  out  with 
a  new  pocket-hank' cher  for  the  fuss  time — an'ts  never 
ben  out  of  his  hand  sense,  by  Gawd !  An'  I  up  an' 
told  him  so — right  to  his  head — mister  brigadier  says 
I,  by  the  time  you're  a  gineral  right  out,  you'll  have 
a  ruffled  shirt  o'  your  own  says  I,  an'  expect  your 
understrappers  to  wash  their  faces  every  campaign, 
says  I ;  an'  eat  buffaloe-punch  with  a  knife  an'  fork,, 
says  I — hourra  !  if  I  did'nt  I  wish  I  may  be  d d ! 

Ruther  a  limpsy  chain  though,  continued  the  down- 
easter  as  soon  as  he  had  got  his  breath  ;  watch  putty 
fair — best  imitation  I've  seen  since  I  dont  know 
when. 

Imitation?  said  I'..   , 

Yes — pinchback. 

Pinchbeck  ? 

Yes — that  what  dye  ye  call  'em  stuff,  washed  over 
with  gool  leaf. 

Pho,  pho  man — that  is  neither  pinchback  nor  imi 
tation. 

Posserble  !     What  is  it  then  ?. 

Gold — fine  gold. 

Maybe  you'd  like  to  wage  somethin'  o'  that — man 
enough  aint  ye  to  back  your  word  with  a  trifle  ?  pull- 
uig  out  an  old  tattered  wallet  with  what  appeared  to 
be  a  large  roll  of  paper  money  in  it.  Say  the  word, 
if  you  dar'st — and  we'll  leave  it  out  to  the  fuss  man. 
qomes  along  for  jess  what  you  like. 


?6  THE    DOWN    EASTER9,    &C.    &C. 

Pho,  pho — nonsense ;  I'm  no  friend  to  wagers. 
What  I  tell  you  is  the  truth,  nevertheless. 

Sneks  an'  spiders  I  you  dont  say  so  ! — If  the  wind 
cants  in  a  little  more  't  the  norrard  the  fog  '11  scale  oft" 
I  ruther  guess  ;  wherebouts  are  ye  goin'  to  set  now 
inarm? — I  did'nt  speak  to  you,  mister;  nor  to  you 
nyther,  marm — nary  one  o'  ye  ;  but  to  that  pore  little 
gal  there  ;  she  ought  to  have  somethin'  to  take  right 
away  and  somethin'  to  hold  on  by  too — ah,  what's 
that  are  book  about  ?  Leetle  a  more. 

All  these  questions  and  remarks  were  uttered  in 
precisely  the  same  tone  of  roice,  now  to  one  by 
stander,  now  to  another ;  and  then  he  took  up  a 
volume — it  was  Walter  Scott's  Rokeby — Leetle  o' 
more,  you'd  a'  lost  it  overboard — R.  O.  K — rok-E — 
rokee — b.  y.  by — Rocke-eby — that's  it,  hey  ? — chock 
full  o'  varse  hey  ? 

Precisely,  said  Gage — Rockeby  baby  on  the  tree- 
top  ! — humming  the  old  nursery  air  with  his  eye  upon 
Middleton,  poor  fellow  !  who  sat  near  the  little 
quakeress,  so  altered  and  so  pale — so  deadly  pale — 
and  so  helpless,  that  much  as  he  desired  to  continue  a 
conversation  with  her,  which  the  down-easter  had 
interrupted,  he  could  not — and  after  several  attempts, 
rising  up,  and  opening  his  mouth,  and  clinging  to  the 
rail  within  a  few  feet  of  her,  anxious  to  betray  a 
proper  sympathy  for  one  so  beautiful  and  so  attractive, 
he  finished,  by  turning  his  back  abruptly  upon  her, 
and  rushing  to  a  distant  part  of  the  deck.  I  saw  him 
and  pitied  him — of  all  sickness,  there  is  none  so 
selfish,  so  hateful  and  so  prosaic,  none  so  trying  to  a 
first  love,  I  do  in  mt  heart  believe,  as  that  of  the  sea — 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  7T 

with  its  '  untrampled  floor,'  and  glorious  depths,  and 
Magnificent  shadows,  and  glad  waters,  and  blue  lustre* 
and  all  that. 

They  were  like  strangers  for  a  time,  sitting  so  near 
to  each  other  all  the  while,  that  over  and  over  again,, 
her  beautiful  hair  swept  over  his  very  mouth  and  eyes, 
and  instead  of  thrilling  at  the  touch,  he  never  knew  it — 
nor  did  she !  I  pitied  them  both,  and  was  happier 
than  either  I  verily  believe,  Avhen  they  recovered  so 
far  as  to  recognize  one  another,  and  smile  and  blush, 
at  their  odd  forgetfulness  of  propriety ; — one  of  the 
prettiest  feet  in  the  world  having  wandered  away 
from  the  modest  drapery  ihat  clung  to  the  instep  and 
shivered  with  every  breath---and  the  slope  of  a  per 
fect  shoulder,  from  which  the  plentiful  gauze  had  been 
lifted  away  by  the  sea-breeze,  or  the  motion  of  the 
boat,  having  some  how  or  other  found  its  way  into 
the  open  air  on  the  side  next  the  enamored  youth — 
whose  cravat  always  negligently  tied,  was  now 
dropping  like  a  shower  of  snow  into  his  bosom- — 
while  his  black  hair  fell  with  a  prodigious  effect 

about  his  pale  face 1  never  saw  a  finer  picture — 

both,  were- in  love,,  deeply  desperately  in  love.  !• 
saw  it  in  their  eyes,  I  heard  it  in  their  breathing 
and  I  turned  away. 

Not  pure  goole  tho'  whatever  you  may  say,  neigh 
bor,  continued  the  down-easter,  following  me  as  I 
moved  away;  jewellers  goole  may  be?  or  Attlebury-. 
gx)ole?  We  make  broches  o'  lead  an  pewter,  at 
most  of  ou  tin-ware  factories,  and  then  give  'em  a 
lick  o'  goole  leaf,  or  copper-leaf — all  the  same  in  dry 
weather — never,  seed  a  watch  sarved  so  before  to. 

4ay  tho'. 

G2, 


78  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &.C. 

Maybe,  you've  seen  a  chist  o'  draws  washed  over 
with  mahogany,  hey  ? — or  tin-ware  put  together  with 
shoe-maker's  wax,  said  the  man  with  the  nose,  drop 
ping  into  conversation  here  as  naitral  as  could  be — 
If  you  haint,  I  have  ! 

You  dont  say  so  ! 

Wai  that's  pooty  nigh  the  truth  for  you — what  if 
you  try  agin ! 

Wai,  if  ever !  fetching  a  long  breath  and  pretend 
ing  to  be  overwhelmed  with  astonishment.  Con'sarn 
it  all  mister  !  anybody  that  takes  you  for  a  dumb  fool 
would'nt  be  very  much  mistaken,  would  they  ? 

Not  more  'an  half  as  muehras  if  they  took  you  for 
an  honest  man.  Try  agin,  will  ye !  and  off  he 
inarched. 

You  shet  your  yop,  an*  mind  your  own  business — 
if  you  know  when  you're  well  off!  said  the  the  first 
after  the  other  was  out  of  hearing  And  so  mister 
Potipher,  as  I  was  a  sayin* — Peter  I  think  you  said  : — 
I've  gut  a  neephew  o'  that  name,  all'ays  a  favoryte 
name  with  me ;  smart  feller  as  ever  you  come  across 
— lugging  out  a  heavy  silver  watch,  as  he  said  this, 
a  genuine  bull's-eye  with  a  huge  copper  logging- 
chain,  a  bell-metal  face,  and  a  bear-trap  for  a  toy 
dangling  at  the  end  of  it ;  dropping  his  voice  or 
changing  the  subject  whenever  any  body  came 
near — What  an  everlastin'  spell  o'  weather  we 
have  had  !  haint  we  ? — a  1>it  of  a  rogue  he  was 
too,  when  he  want  more  'n  knee  high  to  a 
bumbly-bee 

Jess  what  I  should  expect  I  said  the  other,  cutting 
in  again  as  he  passed  by,  and  continuing  a  sort  of 
yaw,  haw !  till  it  was  drowned  by  the  noise  of  the 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  79 

noise  of  the  sea  bursting  and  roaring  about  oar 
path. 

Clear  grit  an'  no  grease  I  tell  ye  ! — twirling  the 
great  lubberly  chain  about  his  wrist,  and  leering  at 
me  through  a  pair  of  eyebrows  like  swallow's  nests. 
Not  much  in  names  tho'  arter  all — may  be  ?  There 
now  ! — jess  look  o'  that  air  !  There's  a  watch  for 
you  !  Thats  what  I  call  somethin'  like  !  none  o'  them 
pitch-pine  bureaus  jess  slicked  over  with  a  wash  o* 
moggany  not  half  so  thick  as  your  nail — that  are 
feller's  ben  talkin'  about — wonder  what  he's  good  for 
— all  jaw  like  a  sheep's  head,  while  I'm  allers  right 
up  an  down  like  a  sheep's  tail  goin'  over  a  wall — 
why,  neighbor,  that  air's  about  the  beatemest  watch 
ever  you  see — ben  a  a-guyin'  more'n  sixty  years  ri^ht 
off  the  reel — never  stopped  to  wheeze,  I  tell  ye  !  jess 
look  o'  here  now — see  what  a  hell-fired  noise  it 
makes  ! 

He  was  right.  Whenever  he  shook  it,  and  held  it 
up  to  my  ear,  it  made  a  noise  like  a  coffee-mill.  I 
jumped  when  I  first  heard  it,  and  he  called  out  for  me 
not  to  be  afraid. 

Heft  it,  said  he — heft  it  man ;  what  are  ye  afeard 
of?  twunt  hurt  ye. 

I  took  it  up,  and  seeing  Gage  a  little  way  off,  began 
heaving  and  weighing  it  with  both  hands. 

Heavy  agin  as  that  o'  yourn,  ye  see!  capped  an' 
jewelled — and  then,  lowering  his  voice  to  a  dry  whis 
per,  he  added,  what'll  ye  give  to  boot? 

Give  I  said  I,  in  amazement. 

Or  take! 

I  laughed — I  could  bear  it  no  l<&pger — laughed  till 
my  sides  ached ;  and  poor  Elizabeth  laughed  too, 


•SO*  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &Ci 

and  her  excellent  old  grandfather  upon  whose  am* 
her  head  lay,  with  her  luxuriant  hair  all  abroad  oven 
her  disordered  neck,  he  laughed,  and  all  who  heard 
us,  except  that  strange  fellow — Nehemiah  Gage — 
or  Atherton  Gage,  if  I  mightbelieve  the  down-easter, 
laughed  with  her. 

But  our  swapper  was  not  a  man  to  be  so  easily 
thrown  out ;  and  after  a  little  rest,  he  began  onco 
more  in  a  still  lower  whisper,  with  his  eye  upon 
Gage;  and  after  saying,  I  want  you  should  give  me  a 
letter  o'  recommend  to  Pheladelphy,  as  I  ruther  guess 
I  shall  go  back  that  way,  and  I'll  give  you  another  to 
Barnstable,  or  Boothbay,  or  most  any  where  along, 
ashore — he  wound  up  with,  How'll  you  swap  ? 

Swap ! 

That's  it !  ben.  out  in  no  less  'an  two  wars  aready — 
heft  it  will  ye  ?  spry  as  ever  yer  see  !  another  pause, 
and  another  careful  examination  of  my  countenance 
followed,  as  if  he — the  poor  innocent — was  afraid  of 
being  cheated  by  me!  we  are  pon  honor,.!  hope? 

I  hope  so,  said  I. 

Fact  is,  I  aint  much  of  a  sharper  myself;  and  then 
seeing  the  other  down^easter.  approach,  he  lifted  up 
his  head  as  if  talking  about  some  very  indifferent 
affair,  and  asked  him  if.  he  could  whittle  agin  the 
wind. 

The  other,  who  had  been  whittling  a  bit  of  soft 
pine  for  the  last  half  holir,  into  forty  successive 
shapes — now  rounding  it  into  a  spigot,  and  now  into  a 
clothes'  pin — now  into  a  small  spoon,  and  finally  into 
a  miniature  j>nuff-box  with  a  moveable  cov£r  and  a 
perfect  hinge,  cut  out  of  the  solid  wood,  working  his 
penknife  with  consummate  ease  and  swiftness,  heaved 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  81 

to  at  this  queer  salutation,  and  after  eying  his  antago 
nist  with  a  knowing  look  for  a  moment,  he  tipped  me 
a  wink,  as  much  as  to  say — didint  I  tell  ye  so  !  and 
was  walking  off;  when  the  other,  not  at  all  em 
barrassed  by  the  reproof,  stopped  him  by  saying,  I 
say,  mister,  let  me  see  your  knife  a  minnit ! 

Wai — there  !  said  the  other  holding  it  up  before  his 
eyes. 

Pshaw  !  you  know  what  I  mean — I  want  to  borry 
it — holding  out  his  hand — cant  you  let  a  feller  see 
the  edge. 

No — nor  feel  the  pynt,  without  I  keep  hold  o'  the 
handle;  gut  eyes  in  the  eends  o'  your  fingers  hey? 
and  off  he  walked. 

That  air  chap's  no  gentleman — I  swan  if  he  is! 
aint  fit  to  carry  guts  to  a  bear  ;  howsomever  as  I  said 
afore ;  aint  much  of  a  sharper  myself,  and  if  we're 

gwyin'  to  trade  fair 

To  trade  fair — I  dont  understand  you ;  who  spoke 
of  trading? 

Fair  play's  a  jooel  friend — hate  a  sharper  as  I  do 
pyz'n  ;  a  dicker's  a  dicker  I  allays  concate,  where 
people's  upon  honor,  but  not  where  they  aint;  dont 
care  how  close  a  feller  is — closer  an'  button-wood- 
bark,  all  the  better  for  me,  for  I  love  to  git  away  jiit 
by  the  skin  o'  my  teeth — an'  a  leetle  more. 

I  began  to  grow  tired  of  this.  Thank  you  for  my 
watch,  said  I ;  offering  to  return  his  at  the  same 
time. 

But  he  hesitated  about  receiving  his  own  back,  and 
began  looking  about — perhaps  to  find  a  witness  that 
would  prove  a  swap — saying  as  he  did  so,  with  more 
and  more  earnestness  and  vivacity  every  moment, — 


82  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Which  as  I  said  afore,  if  you've  a  mind  to  stick  to 
the  swap — a  bargain  's  a  bargain  you  know  ? — aint  it 
mister?  to  a  foot  passenger  on  his  way  to  Baltimore- 

I'll  thank  you  for  my  watch,  was  my  answer  to 
this. 

My  stars  !  Have  it  now,  or  wait  till  you  can  git  it  I 
all  honey  an'  hug  a  minnit  ago  ;  an'  now  !  marsy  on 
us  !  what  a  change ! 

Give  me  the  -watch  ! 

Why  what  a  feeze  you  air  in,  to  be  sure  ! 

Dont  provoke  me  sir! 

At  a  word  then how'll  you  swap  I 

No  how — give  me  the  watch  I  say. 

Possable  !  Buy  it  of  ye  then — what  '11  ye  take  T 

I  started  to  my  feet,  I  dare  say  with  no  very  amia 
ble  expression  of  countenance,  for  I  had  growl* 
heartily  tired  of  his  pertinacity. 

Buy  or  sell  frind — all  the  same  to  me — what  '11  ye 
give  ?  make  us  an  offer,  if  ye  dare  ! 

At  this  moment  a  loud  jarring  bell,  wheezing  and 
sounding  far  and  wide  over  the  agitated  sea,  interrupt 
ed  our  talk  ;  and  up  came  the  steward  to  say  dinner 
was  ready.  But  I  would  not  stir  a  step  till  I  had 
secured  my  watch.  And  the  down-easter,  who  tried 
to  allay  my  fears  by  reminding  me  that  he  did'nt  con 
sider  the  watch  as  altogether  at  his  risk,  would'nt 
leave  me  till  I  agreed  to  a  proposition  which  tickled 
me  prodigiously.  And  what  do  you  think  it  was, 
reader  ?  Why  nothing  more  nor  less  than  for  me  to 
leave  the  value  of  my  superb  repeater  to  be  fixed  by 
a  third  person,  and  then  to  sell  her  at  the  price  he 
named ! 

As  I  live,  I  had  half  a  mind  to  say  yes,  and  refer  thfr 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &/C.  83 

question  to  the  very  individual  who  had  watched  over 
me  so-  faithfully,  and  warned  me  so  frequently  against 
the  tricks  of  this  fellow. 

But  perhaps  he  suspected  my  design  ;  for  he  added 
in  the  same  breath,  as  if  to  secure  himself  against 
any  misfortune  of  that  nature- — ;that  instead  of  choos 
ing  an   umpire,  we  should  take  the  first  person  that 
came    along,    and  then  if    I  refused  to  sell,    or  if 
he    refused  to  buy,  at    the    price    mentioned,    the 
party   falling   back   should   treat   or   pay   for   three 
dinners.     By  jove !  said  I  to  myself,  but  I'll  fix  him 
so  far  as  three  dinners  go — he  richly  deserves  it — 
and  so  under  pretence  of  more  fully  understanding 
the  proposition,  I  repeated  it  after  him,  keeping  my 
eye  upon  the  man  with  the  nose,  then  evidently  pre 
paring  to  follow  the  others  to  dinner-^-and  finished 
just  at  the  critical  moment,  to  secure  him  as  the  first 
person  that  came  along.  Already  had  he  grasped  the 
mahogany  railing — a  moment  more,  and  he  would 
have  disappeared  down  the  companion-way.     Such 
an  opportunity  for  revenge  was  not  to  be  let  slip, 
and  I  insisted  on   the   very  letter  of  our  contract. 
My  antagonist  demurred  for  a  moment,  and  there  was 
a  something  in  his  eye,  which  at  any  other  time  would 
have  induced  me  to  relent. 

Wai,  said  he,  if  it  must  be  so,  it  must  I  'spose — 
though  I  should'nt  think  twould  be  any  put-out  to 
you  to  take  somebody  else ;  and  then  he  gave  up, 
though  with  evident  unwillingness,  and  a  peculiar 
twitch  of  the  mouth  and  sparkle  of  the  eye  that 
delighted  me  exceedingly  at  the  time — though  not  so 
much  afterwards ;  and  we  called  the  man  to  us,  and 
I  stated  the  question— chuckling  at  the  bare  idea  of 


84  THB    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C. 

out-witting  one  down-easter  by  the  help  of  another, 
and  so  handsomely  too  ! 

Why!  said  the  umpire,  whose  hurry  to  get  away 
augmented  in  exact  proportion  to  the  noise  below — a 
noise  like  nothing  I  had  ever  before,  asleep  or  awake 
— a  country-tavern  election  day,  or  a  crockery-ware 
shop  running  off  at  the  heels  of  wild-horses,  or 
another  Brummagem  got  loose  and  breaking  up  for  a 
voyage  over  sea,  with  steam-engines  to  match — these 
and  these  only  occur  to  me  as  even  tolerable  types  of 
the  uproar  that  followed,  growing  louder  and  louder 
every  moment,  till  we  could  hardly  hear  ourselves 
speak — Why — a — a — standing  first  on  one  leg  and 
then  on  the  other — if  you're  both  agreed. 

We  assured  him  we  were,  and  my  companion, 
began  to  look  so  sheepish — you've  no  idea  how 
diverted  I  felt,  though  as  the  venerable  quaker  after 
wards  assured  me,  I  kept  my  countenance  to  a  charm, 
all  things  considered.  N.  B.  I  never  forgave  him  for 
the  remark. 

Why,  continued  the  umpire — twisting  the  watch- 
chain  about  his  fingers  and  hefting  the  whole  concern 
as  he  called  it — and  weighing  the  whole  matter  so 
conscientiously — upon  my  word,  I  hare  no  patience 
with  myself,  when  I  think  of  his  unmatchable  coolness 
or  of  my  own  self-satisfied  stupidity — why  to  tell  ye 
the  truUi  mister ;  you're  both  strangers  to  me — I'm 
no  great  judge  o'  these  ere"  kind  o'  jimcracks — fair 
tradin's  gut  to  be  putty  pore  business  now,  an'  fair 
traders  terrible  skase — most  every  body  jockies  for 
themselves  now — feller  cant  cut  his  own  fodder,  if  he 
dont  shave  tarnation  close,  I  tell  ye !  which  its  my 
opinion,  an'  you  may  let  it  go  for  jess  whats  worth  an' 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  96 

no  more — that's  my  way — an'  your  watch  may  be 
gool  as  you  say — and  may  be  not :  whereupon — 
shifting  his  leg  and  interchanging  a  glance  with  the 
old  quaker,  who  bit  his  lip  and  looked  at  me — where 
upon,  as  I  said  afore,  considerin'  how  turrible  thick 
you've  ben  all  the  parsage,  notwithstandin'  all  I  could 
say — could'nt  tell  which  was  which  five  minutes  ago, 
you  sot  so  close  together — hitching  up  his  mouth  till 
there  was  only  one  side  to  it,  as  if  astonished  at  the 
clearness  of  his  own  exposition — A— a-a  its  my  best 
judgment  frinds — never  good  for  much  though,  as  I 
said  afore — that  somewhere  about  fifteen  dollars — or 
fifteen-fifty — or  say  fifteen-seventy-five,  at  the  very 
outside,  weighing  the  watch  again  with  a  grave 
thoughtful  air  as  he  concluded  the  decree — would  be 
about  the  fair  valley  on't  these  times,  an'  pesky  hard 
times  they  air  too,  I  tell  ye !  Judge  of  my  amaze 
ment  ! 

Why  sir  said  I,  laughing  in  spite  of  my  vexation  at 
the  ridiculous  figure  I  cut,  between  such  a  pair  of 
thorough-bred  sharpers  — only  consider;  fifteen  dollars 
or  fifteen-fifty,  or  fifteen  seventy-five,  at  the  very  out 
side  as  you  say — upon  my  word,  the  little  amethyst 
you  see  there,  the  smallest  seal  of  the  whole  bunch, 
cost  me  double  the  money  ! 

Dare  say  !  cant  help  that  tho' ;  dont  pertend  to  be 
much  of  a  judge — both  strangers  to  me,  as  I  said 
before. 

Very  well,  said  I,  though  I  longed  to  remind  him 
of  what  he  had  said  of  the  other,  some  three  hours 
earlier  in  the  day — when  he  knew  him  of  old — Very 
well !  lifting  my  foot  with  an  emphasis  jvhich  diverted 
the  old  quaker  prodigiously,  and  the  young  quakeress 
H 


86  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

too,  if  I  might  judge  by  what  I  could  see  of  her 
mouth  below  the  handkerchief  that  she  teld  up  to  it, 
and  beginning  to  descend  the  stairs — very  well — 
/  am  satisfied. 

What! — hey! satisfied! — you  aint  though,  air 

ye !  cried  both  together,  struck  all  of  a  heap  it  seemed 
to  me.  Taint  posserble  !  cried  the  umpire.  "Why  ! 
.  .  .  . !  cried  the  swapper ;  and  there  I  left  them 
staring  at  one  another  as  if  thunderstruck.  Their 
first  idea  undoubtedly  was,  that  instead  of  jockeying 
me,  as  they  termed  it,  they  were  handsomely  jockied 
themselves,  perhaps  with  something  inferior  to  pinch- 
back  or  bell-metal. 

Yes,  I  repeated,  yes  my  good  sir,  satisfied — so  far 
as  to — making  a  full  stop  to  enjoy  their  perplexity — 
so  far  as  to — we  were  interrupted  again  just  here. 

Mind  though  !  cried  the  umpire,  the  disinterested 
umpire,  who  had  happened  upon  us  by  accident,  after 
cautioning  me  so  frequently  and  so  earnestly  to  be- 
'ware  of  the  other, — mind  though  !  you  jest  warranted 
that  are  watch  pure  goold ;  an'  what's  more,  I'm  a 
witness  on't ;  and  if  I'm  no  judge,  as  I  said  afore,  I 
ruther  guess  I'm  a  bit  of  lawyer  when  I  am  at  home — 
haw,  haw,  haw! 

Whereupon,  I  continued satisfied,  gentlemen, 

if  you  will  hear  me  out — so  far  as  to  pay  for  three 
•  dinners,  and  treat  you  both 

Jess  so !  cried  the  first.  Ginmee  you  yit — by 
Jings  !  added  the  other — hourray  !  their  countenances 
brightening  up  immediately 

And  treat  you  both,  as  you  deserve, — I  added  from 
between  my  shut  teeth — I  could'nt  help  it — the  ras 
cals  !  Saying  this,  I  hurried  down  the  steps  and  left 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  87 

them  whispering  together.  But  my  ill-humor  I  own 
vanished  on  my  arrival  at  the  dinner-table,  whither 
they  pursued  me  instantly  and  without  shame  or 
remorse,  each  fortifying  the  other  at  every  remark 
and  pretending  to  the  last  never  to  have  met  before, 
nor  even  to  know  the  others  name.  I  saw  clearly 
enough  now  that  they  had  been  playing  the  whole 
voyage  through — not  so  much  for  the  watch,  as  for 
the  dinners,  being,  after  all  perhaps,  rather  better 
judges  of  the  latter  than  of  the  former  commodity ; 
and  that  if  they  had  failed  to  get  it  in  this,  or  in  some 
other  similar  way,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  as  they  term 
it,  they  would  have  gone  without  or  dined  on  the  con 
tents  of  their  sugar-boxes,  and  wallets,  and  saddle 
bags — ginger-bread  and  salt-fish  perhaps,  or  apples 
and  cheese,  or  rye-and-indian-bread,  fat-pork  and  cold 
beans — but  we  have  gone  far  enough  perhaps,  for  one 
chapter, 


CHAPTER    VII. 

MIND,  Cap'n  Trip  !  this  ere  man  pays  for  the  three 
— for  both  of  us  two  an'  himself!  cried  the  foremost 
in  doubling  the  captain's  chair,  on  our  way  to  the  ta 
ble  ;  to  which  very  delicate  intimation  I  had  nothing 
to  say,  as  the  captain  did  not  hear  them  in  the  bustle 
of  making  room  for  two  or  three  new  comers.  Our 
places  were  now  secure,  and  I  had  seated  myself  with 
a  view  to  business — being,  if  I  may  be  allowed  so  to 
speak — in  a  devil  of  a  hurry  to  go  to  work,  and  as 
hungry  as  a  wolf,  tworthirds  famished — when  one  of 
my  two  associates  called  out  to  the  steward  in  passing, 
a  colored  man — I  say,  mister !  this  'ere  man  here, 
pointing  to  me,  and  then  laying  hold  of  my  collar,  pays 
for  three  ;  mind  now  !  ye're  to  look  to  him  for  all  we 
eat  an'  drink — no  put  out  to  you,  I  hope  ? 

This  matter  stated,  and  the  judgment  of  law  fairly 
bespoken,  they  seated  themselves  one  on  each  side  of 
me — as  if  to  make  sure  of  a  subject,  much  to  my  an 
noyance,  but  altogether  more  to  my  amusement ;  for 
all  eyes  were  upon  me,  whenever  they  condescended 
to  open  their  mouths.  Middleton  I  thought  under 
stood  the  matter  and  compassionated  my  situation  ; 
but  as  for  Gage — I  believe  in  my  heart  I  should  have 
quarrelled  with  him  any  where  else,  but  for  the  repu 
tation  he  had,  so  much  did  he  appear  to  enjoy  my 
occasional  embarrassment  and  their  uncouth  familiari 
ties,  though  he  said  nothing,  and  there  was  little  in 
his  look  to  cohiplain  of,  except  perhaps  a  slight  con- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  89 

vulsive  twitching  about  the  mouth,  accompanied  by  a 
brief  contraction  of  the  forehead,  now  and  then,  which 
another  might  not  have  cared  for. 

Two  tables  were  spread  the  whole  length  of  the 
large  cabin ;  both  were  crowded  at  last,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  there  were  two  hundred  passengers,  may  be 
more,  all  eating  together  and  all  talking  together  as 
fast  and  as  loud  as  they  could  speak,  for  about  half 
an  hour. 

Pray,  sir — to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 
scene — pray,  sir,  murmured  a  fat  choleric-looking 
man,  opposite  me,  will  you  do  me  the  favor  to — pah ! 
what  the  devil  is  that!  cried  another  at  my  elbow, 
jumping  half  out  of  his  chair  and  overturning  a  dish 
of  melted  butter  that  a  servant  was  trying  to  push  by 
his  elbow.  Will  you  do  me  the  favor,  sir,  continued 
the  first,  as  to  help  me  to  a — a — to  help  me — to  a — to 
a ! — growing  more  and  more  nervous  and  impatient, 
and  speaking  louder  and  louder  at  every  repetition, 
till  the  murmur  had  became  a  shout — 

Hullow  there !  bear  a  hand,  will  ye — interrupted 
another. 
,,   To  help  me  to  a — to  a — 

Louder!  louder!  screamed  a  voice  further  off,  like 
a  wretched  clarionet  with  the  reed  split — louder ! 
louder!  can't  hear  a  word  you  say  !  Two  plates  en 
counter  each  other  at  this  moment — midway  of  the 
table — both  are  smashed — the  veal  cutlets  fly  one 
way  and  the  fried  fish  another — louder,  if  you  please  ! 

I  turned  my  head  toward  the  speaker,  and  saw  a 

little  thin  man  stooping  half  across  the  (able  with  his 

hand  to  his  ear,  trying  to  make  out  the  bluff  petition 

of  the  choleric  old  gentleman,  who  had  risen  half  out 

H2 


90  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

of  his  chair,  and  now  stood  with  his  mouth  wide  open 
— his  head  stretched  toward  the  other — and  gesticu 
lating,  like  a  thorough-bred  East  India  captain, 
doubling  the  Cape — with  bad  officers — in  a  hurricane. 
A  laugh  on  my  left  obliged  me  to  turn  my  head  that 
way.  One  of  the  down-easters  had  pulled  a  large 
roasted  fowl  out  of  the  dish,  upon  the  soiled  table 
cloth,  and  was  sawing  it  in  two  mid-ships,  with  his 
mouth  full  of  bread-and-butter,  which  he  kept  sup 
plied  during  the  whole  operation. 

Waiter  ! — wai — ter  !  screamed  another  shrill  voice 
afar  off,  so  shrill  as  to  be  distinctly  heard  through  all 
the  uproar,  like  a  "  wry-necked  fife'  at  a  militia  mus 
ter,  or  an  octavo  flute  in  a  full  band — haloo  there  !  not 
a  waiter  to  be  seen,  by  George  ! 

Not  a  waiter  to  be  seen — faith  !  I  can  see  nothing 
but  waiters,  answered  somebody  else. 

Here,  boy,  here  !  this  way  an'  be  damned  to  you  ! 

growled  another.   Cuss  the  nigger  !  he  shouted  again, 

with  his  mouth  so  full  he  could'nt  make  himself  heard, 

Begga  parron,  massa  !  twan't  my   fawt,  if  massa 

preeze. 

Nor  was  it.  The  chicken — a  devilish  tough  chicken 
I  thought,  and  so  did  the  sufferer,  I  dare  say,  had 
slipped  from  the  clutches  of  the  operator  from  down 
cast,  into  the  lap  of  a  burly  midshipman,  who  was 
that  instant  reaching  his  plate  across  the  table,  swim 
ming  with  fish  gravy — poor  "fellow  !  it  turned  out  to 
be  pudding-sauce,  after  he  had  cursed  the  nigger 
again,  cleared  his  throat  and  swabbed  his  white  ker 
seymeres.  Nobody  knew  how  it  got  there — he  had 
just  spread  out  the  favorite  part  of  a  favorite  fish — 
and  there  he  sat,  eying  it  in  dismay,  and  breathing  as 


THE    DOWN    EASTER,    &C.    «fec.  91 

if  he  had  been  under  water  half  an  hour;  while  the 
down-easter  stood  leaning  over  the  table  with  his  knife 
and  fork  in  the  air,  and  his  eyes  rivetted  on  the  hacked 
and  hewed-skeleton,  as  it  tumbled  from  the  midship 
man's  lap  into  the  settee,  and  from  the  settee  into  the 
middle  of  the  floor — there  to  be  kicked  about  until 
dinner  was  over." 

Hulloo  there  !  bear  a  hand,  will  ye  ? — what's  the 
matter  now  ? — Devil  to  pay  and  no  pitch  hot ! — There 
ye  go  agin  !  sloppin'  the  grease  all  over  the  table 
cloth  ! — What's  that  to  you,  I  should  like  to  know  ? — 
Should  ye  ? — Yes  I  should. — You  be  damned  ! — I  say 
youngster,  can  you  tell  the  difference  between  the — 
the — capital  fish,  hey? — the  hypotheneuse  of  a  right 
angle-triangle  with  the  stops  off,  and  the  distance  be 
tween — a  mouthful  o'  cabbage  if  you  please — between 
time  and  space  ? — helping  the  other  who  had  inter 
rupted  him,  to  full  half  a  cabbage. 

No,  sir  !  but  I  can  tell  you  sir — raising  his  voice  by 
degrees,  and  waxing  warmer  and  warmer  as  he  pro- 
ceeded>  till  he  was  actually  inarticulate  with  rage — 
while  the  other  kept  on  eating — you're  a — boo — oo—oo 
— Thank  ye  sir,  said  the  other,  interrupting  him  with 
a  good  natured  laugh — that's  what  I  call  a  smasher  ! 

I  say,  you  mister  !  thank  ye  for  a  leetle  more  o' 
your'e  sarse  !  The  man  stared,  and  then  began  to  pour 
out  some  pudding-sauce  upon  the  offered  plate — 

Dod  butter  it  all !  I  did'nt  see  what  you  was  a  doin' 
of.  That  aint  the  kind  o'  sarse  I  wanted,  puddin'- 
gravy  to  corn-fish  !  pulling  away  his  plate  and  leaving 
the  sauce  to  run  all  oVer  the  table-cloth — I  wanted 
cabbage  or  potaters,  or  most  any  sort  o'  garden  sarse 
— there,  there !  most  any  one  '11  do  for  me — aint 
over  an'  above  particlar. 


93  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

A  short  pause  followed — a  breathing  spell — and  the 
clamor  died  away,  voice  by  voice,  like  the  prattle  of 
girls  at  a  crowded  party,  where  all  talk  together  and 
all  are  silent  together  ;  and  then,  after  a  minute  or  two, 
recommenced  again  louder  than  before — you'd  have 
thought  the  vessel  afire,  by  the  shouting  and  scream 
ing. 

Bread  up  there  ! — This  way  nigger  !  Goode-goree- 
midee — never  heerd  nodin'  like  'm  !  yelled  the  nigger, 
in  reply.  Hourraw  there,  hourraw  !  I  say  steward- 
steward  ! — this  way,  my  good  fellow  ;  can't  you  give 
us  a  mouthful  ? Stewart,  I  say — Hell  and  damna 
tion  !  must  I  bawl  my  heart  out  before  I  can  make  you 
hear  ? — Ay,  ay  sir  ! — comin'  directly  sir. — Stewart,  I 
say  ! — Sir  to  you. 

Here  boy,  here,  cried  another  somebody,  in  a  voice 
like  one  suffocating  with  heat  and  thirst — take  my 
plate — get  me  a  clean  glass — and  a  bottle  of—Ay,  ay, 
sir  ! — porter  ;  an'  some  fruit  pie — is  that  dried  peach 
or  cramberry — (cram-berry!  whispered  Gage) — and 

a  small  piece  of  fresh  butter,  and  a stop,  stop ! 

aint  half  done  yet;  where  the  devil  are  ye  goin' 

to  ? Stop  !  I  say — But  the  servant  was  already  out 

of  hearing. 

Josh  !  I  say  Josh — slobber-cakes  all  gone? — Jawsh ! 
I  say  ! — hand  us  over  the  big  speakin'  trumpet,  hollar 
fire,  and  set  the  big  bell  a-goin' !  theres  a  good  feller ; 
nobody  '11  hear  it! 

Fire  and  fury  !  squeaked  another  '  still  small  voice' 
never  seed  sech  a  boat  since  I  breathed  the  breath  o' 
life — driv  me  fust  one  side  an'' then  'tother,  ever  since 
I  cum  aboard,  an'  never  get  me  nothin'  to  eat  arter 
all. One  day  in  the  courts  of  the  lord  is  better 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  93 

than  a  thousand,  so  I'v  hearn  our  preacher  say,  an' 

that's  my  notion  of  a  steam-boat. Hush  your  jaw 

there  ! 

Dont  you  say  that  agin  ! 

Shet  your  clam  ! — like  that  better? — hold  your 
yop! 

Tell  you  what,  my  frind  :  you'll  run  agin  the  eend 
o'  my  arm  if  you  dont  look  well  ahead — through  you, 
like  shell-beans,  if  you  get  me  ryled  in  airnest ! 

A  feller  might  starve  here  an'  nobody  know  nothin' 
about  it.  Nigger — I  say ! — nigger — Stewart — nigger  ! 

Why  don't  ye  strangle  that  child  ? Ma  !  ma  ! 

where's  ma  ?  I  want  ma  ! if  you  dont,  I  will,  by 

the  Lord  Harry  !  git  out  ye  little  tom-cat !  give  him 
a  two-and-forty  pounder  tn  play  with— No  ma  go 
away  !  waugh !  Chuck  him  into  the  boiler  !  Wau — 
au — augh  ! 1  want  ma  ! 

Here  a  very  pompous  gentleman,  who  had  not 
opened  his  mouth  before,  reached  over  toward  a  short 
citizen,  whom  I  had  been  observing,  and  who  was 
just  in  the  middle  of  a  large  plate  of  beef,  reeking 
with  delicious  blood,  gravy  and  yellow-mustard,  over 
which  you  could  see  his  huge  bald-pate  vibrating  this 
way  and  that  with  the  regularity  of  a  pendulum  as  he 
cut  and  swallowed  and  sopped,  and  sopped  and  swal 
lowed  and  cut,  puffing  and  blowing  at  intervals  of  a 
minute  or  more,  and  never  lifting  his  eyes  from  the 
plate — reached  over,  as  I  said  before,  and  begged  him, 
with  a  sober  countenance  and  a  dignified  motion  of 
the  extended  arm,  speaking  very  slowly,  and  loud 
enough  to  call  the  attention  of  the  whole  company 
toward  him — to  put  his  fork  into  a  potato. 

The  other  did  so — took  the  offered  fork,  and  thrust 


94  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

it  into  a  potato,  without  looking  up — and  left  it 
there. 

The  pompous  gentleman  stared  and  then  with 
another  and  a  lower  bow  and  a  compassionate  smile 
for  the  by-standers,  he  told  the  other  he'd  be  obliged 
to  him  for  his  fork. 

Whereupon  the  other  bowed  in  reply,  and  pulled 
out  the  fork,  without  looking  up,  and  reached  it  across 
the  table  to  him  with'  such  a  literal  innocent  air,  that 
the  midshipman  who  was  just  pouring  down  a  tumbler 
of  porter,  burst  forth  into  a  roar  of  ungovernable 
laughter,  scattering  the  foam  over  all  his  neighbours, 
and  showering  his  white  kerseymeres  with  a  new 
color,  as  he  held  the  empty  bottle  in  the  air  with  one 
hand ;  and  the  empty  tumbler  in  the  other.  The 
laugh  was  so  hearty — so  unexpected — and  so  out 
rageous,  that  all  within  reach  of  the  echo  were 
obliged  to  laugh  with  him,  before  he  had  finished — 
save  and  except  the  pompous  gentleman  himself  who 
sat  swelling  and  heaving  with  rage,  till  he  grew  almost 
black  in  the  face  ;  and  the  gourmand,  who  was  too 
much  occupied  for  a  laugh — looking  up  only  once 
during  the  whole  uproar,  and  then  with  such'  a  stare 
of  unsuspecting  good-nature,  as  to  set  us  all  a-going 
again,  louder  than  ever.  And  now,  reader,  imagine 
yourself  surrounded  for  half  an  hour  by  outcries  like 
these  already  mentioned,  intermixed  with  the  follow 
ing,  of  which  1  took  a  mem-erandam  the  first  oppor 
tunity  after  I  left  the  dinner-table. 

Stewart  I  say  ! — Ay,  ay,  sir.  Stewart !  Stewart ! — 
Here  I  am  sir — lowering  his  voice,  I  aint  deef,  sir. — 
Who  said  you  was  ?  take  my  plate  an'  be  hanged  to 
ye ;  an'  ax  that  lady  there,  with  my  compliments  to 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &.C.  95 

her,  if  she'll  take  a  glass  o'  porter ! What'll  you 

have  now  sir,  said  another  blackey,  in  passing  our  part 
of  the  table. 

Now  sir !  why  zounds  an'  death,  you  lump  of  tarred 
rattlin  with  a  figger-head  to  match ;  I  havent  had 
no  thin'  at  all  yit — your  very  good  health  marm  ! — 
beg  your  pardon  sir — (the  speaker  had  just  blown  the 
froth  from  his  porter  into  the  ruffled-bosom  of  his 
next  neighbor) — I  was  lookin'  at  the  lady  sir. 

Hourra  there,  hourra  !  green  peas  '11  be  all  gone  if 

you  don't  mind  your  eyes,  cuffee. Thank  ye  for  a 

few  more  o'  them  air  green  peas — dont  feel  very  well 
somehow — never  able  to  eat  nothin'  hearty  when  I'm 
at  sea  ! 

By  jingo,  growled  a  double  bass  in  reply — guess  he 
never  was  at  sea  then  ;  eat  nothin'  but  green  .peas 
since  he  sot  down — hourraw  for  you,  cuffee  ! 

Sir,  said  a  well-dressed,  well-bred  looking  man 
with  a  short  neck,  a  tight  stiff  cravat,  a  florid  face, 
drab  gaiters,  and  hair  powder  that  flew  about  the 
table  strangely  enough,  as  he  wiped  his  mouth  on  the 
table-cloth,  or  helped  himself,  as  he  did  frequently 
from  the  open  snuff-box  at  his  elbow,  with  decided 
emphasis — a — a — sir,  I  never  could  exactly  under 
stand — filling  his  mouth  with  water  and  squirting  it 
through  his  teeth  into  what  he  called  a  finger-glass, 
to  the  astonishment  and  disgust  of  the  low-bred 
natives  about  him — a-a — not  exactly — why  the  color 
ed  Americans  are  called  cuffees. 

Gerard  Middleton  started  and  sat  eying  the  stran 
ger—a  portentous  flash  going  over  his  high  pale 
forehead — a  swarthy  glow — leaving  it  instantly  paler 
than  before  ;  and  but  for  Gage,  who  interfered  with 


96  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C. 

a  remark  that  caused  every  body  to  turn  that  way,  I 
believe  in  my  heart  we  should  have  had  an  immediate 
interchange  of  cards.  A  stranger,  I  presume  ?  said 
Gage,  with  a  most  deferential  bow ;  to  which  the  other 
returned  a  very  encouraging  smile,  and  a  bow  re 
markable  for  its  dignity  and  impressiveness.  Gage 
continued — The  people  of  this  country  sir,  as  you 
have  undoubtedly  observed,  are  of  two  colors,  black 
and  white. 

Black  or  white,  I  presume  sir — with  a  still  more 
encouraging  bow. 

As  yoy  please,  my  dear  sir — one  should  be  careful 
in  the  use  of  copulatives  in  such  cases — black  or  white 
sir—or — glancing  at  Middleton — or  half-and-half  some 
times  at  the  south,  where  they  are  called  milk-and- 
molasses. 

Middleton's  eyes  flashed  fire ;  but  the  imperturba 
ble  Gage  continued 

The  whites  in  America,  are  the  cuffers,  and  the 
blacks  are  the  cuffees. 

Middleton  smiled  faintly  and  was  turning  away, 
when  the  stranger  whipped  out  a  memorandum-book 
and  began  writing  in  it  with  unspeakable  earnestness. 
The  smile  became  a  laugh,  and  he  stopped  and  took 
the  hand  of  Gage  with  an  expression  that  I  never 
shall  forget  while  I  breathe.  The  stranger  was  out 
on  furlough  perhaps  from  Sheffield  or  Birmingham,  or 
peradventure  from  the  Scetch  navy,  on  a  holiday 
voyage  of  discovery.  A  book  which  has  appeared 
since,  would  appear  to  be — a-a — but  no  matter  for 
that. 

I  had  now  leisure  to  attend  to  the  doings  of  the 
company  in  another  quarter.  For  my  own  part,  I 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  97 

could  eat  nothing — there  was  no  time  to  eat-—no 
elbow-room — no  space  for  swallowing  ;  it  was  about 
as  much  as  one's  life  were  worth  to  try  where  I  sat, 
wedged  in  for  two  thirds  of  my  length  between  the 
two  indefatigable  down-easters ;  so  that  if  any  one 
of  the  whole  three  moved  or  wriggled,  the  other  two 
were  certain  to  drop  their  food  from  their  lifted- 
knives,  or  to  slop  their  tumblers  over,  on  the  way  to 
their  mouths. 

Here  you  nigger  !  this  way — fetch  me  another  glass 
o'  that  air  coslin'  stuff,  you  know  what  (with  a  wink 
and  a  laugh)  I  say  Bob ! — hourrah  there !  will  ye 

take  a  pull  with  me,  if  ye  dare? Will  I  ? — try  me. 

Well  then  you-go-to-hell !  as  the  Frenchman  said, 
ha,  ha,  haw  ! — Same  to  you  Swipes  !  You're  from 

Rhode-Island,  hey? — An'  you're  from  Delaware 

hey  ? — Not  as  you  knows  on! Have  a  gardeen 

'pynted  for  you  as  soon  as  I  git  ashore. — Would  ye 
though  I 

Having  now  made  sure  of  a  plate  of  soup,  not  so 
much  to  eat,  as  to  play  with,  I  renewed  my  conversa 
tion  with  my  right-hand  neighbor,  and  asked  him  how 
he  came  to  suppose  me  an  old-countryman,  as  he 
called  me.  Why,  said  he,  us  ra-al  ginooines  always 
begin  what  we  have  to  say  with  a  wal  or  a  why — and 
then  in  the  first  place  fustly,  fact  is,  jest  arter  you 
come  aboard — eat  away  man !  eat  away !  if  you  know 
when  you  are  well  off,  any  body  might  know  you're 
not  o'  these  parts 

I  have  divided  that  pie  twice  already,  said  a  man 
opposite,  to  another  who  wanted  a  share. 

So  you  have — with  yourself  both  times ;  said  the 
other ;  you  remind  me  of  the  boy  who  complained  of 


98  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

his  bed-fellow  for  taking  half  the  bed — and  why  not? 
said  his  mother  ?  he's  entitled  to  half,  aint  he  ?  yes 
mother,  said  the  boy — but  how  should  you  like  to 
have  him  take  out  all  the  soft  for  his  half? — he  will 
have  his  half  right  out  o'  the  middle  !  and  I  have  to 
sleep  both  sides  of  him 

Ah  !  and  what  did  his  mother  say?  asked  the  literal 
creature  above  mentioned,  who  had  just  finished  his 
share  of  the  ox. 

Not  of-Hhese  parts  !  how  so  ?  said  I,  resuming  the 
subject  with  my  down-easter's  friend. 

Eatin'  brawth  fust!  when  there's  duck  an'  green 
peas  at  three  dollars  a  peck  right  under  your  nose- 
might  lays  in  most  enough  to  pay  your  passage.  I 
say  mister — halves  there  !  halves,  I  say ! 

The  man  he  called  to,  was  dividing  another  large 
pie  fore  and  aft  with  a  single  sweep  of  his  cleaver. 

Flimsiest  cloth  ever  I  did  see — wonder  what  he 
gin  for  this — lifting  up  a  corner  of  the  table-cloth 
with  one  hand,  and  looking  through  it  up  the  com 
panion-way,  while  he  fed  himself  diligently  with  the 
Other  ;  wonder  how  much  that  stood  him  in — guess  if 
I  had  him  at  'Derry,  he'd  find  it  come  a  good  deal 
cheaper — put  it  to  him  leetlc  more'n  half  price  for 
cash,  or  approved  endorsed  notes. 

Here,  you  nigger  !  gimmee  you  yit ! — mamma  ! 
mamma !  screamed  a  child  from  the  far  cabin.  To 
which  the  mother  screamed  in  reply — Hold  yer  yop, 
George  Federick  Smith,  if  I  have  to  come  to  you 

I'll boo-hoo-hoo-hoo  ! — ^vill  yer  !  Hush  there, 

Matildy  Charlotty  Smith  !  I'll  take  an'  whip  ye  both 
if  ye  dont  shet  up — I  will  so  ! — Why  dont  you  carry 
the  poor  little  dears  about  in  your  arms  Dinah  ?  and 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  99 

the  female  voice  went  off  by  another  passage  to  the 
deck. 

Pose  you  tink  poor  ole  dinah  nebber  had  notin* 
else  ado,  an'  tote  you  all  about  a  ship,  hey,  said  the 
girl,  as  soon  as  the  mother  was  out  of  hearing — up 
stars  an'  down? — Pa,  pa!  ma,  ma  !  I  want  my  pa!  I 
want  my  ma  ! — boo-hoo  !  boo-hoo  !  boo-hoo  ! — Hush 
you  noise,  ye  liddle  debbil  you  ! 

When  I  was  a  little  boy,  my  mother  told  me, 
If  I  did'nt  lie  still,  she'd  come  an'  hold  me, 

Whistled  the  midshipman  between  his  shut  teeth. — 
What's  that  door  shot  for — oh,  I  see — innocent  Abi 
gail  !  fastened  her  chamber-door  with  a  boiled  car 
rot . 

Heered  that  story  another  way,  said  his  com 
panion — she  tied  herself  up  with  her  garters,  and  left 
a  knife  in  the  winder. 

I  say  Sambo — take  and  care  that  away ;  care  it  up 
on  deck  and  empt  it  overboard,  abaft  the  main-chaina, 
dye  hear?  to  the  wind'ard  o'  that  are  weather-gage 
ye  see  there,  pointing  to  the  Yankee's  nose.  Whew — 
ew — ew — ! — d — d  etarnal  hot  here,  hey? — Hot  as  blue 
blazes — my  buttons  are  droppin'  off  by  spoon-fulls. 
That's  your  conceit — another  conspyracy  I  swan! 
two  o'  the  stubbedest  fellers  ever  I  did  see,  and 
always  at  it ! 

More  green  peas  !  more  green  peas  ! — Halloo,  mis 
ter  !  what  are  ye  at  now  ? — Beg  your  pardon  sir. — 
Blast  an'  set  fire  to  your  nonsense,  you've  stuck  that 
are  fork  into  me  half  way  up  to  the  handle ! — Hope 
not  sir ;  very  sorry  sir — thank  ye  for  another  spoonful 
or  two  o'  them  air  green  peas. — Consarn  it  all  neigh 
bor*  if  I  think  them  are  green  peas  '11  continner  long 


100  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &,C. 

at  this  rate — better  have  a  dip  now  (in  a  whisper  to 
me.)  No  I  thank  ye — Had'nt  ye  better  ? — All  gone 
sir,  all  gone  !  cried  the  waiter. — All  gone  ! — heaven 
and  earth !  ye  dont  say  so  ! — all  gone  ?  why  how  ye 
talk  !  Have'nt  had  a  single  mouthful  yit !  cried  two 
or  three  voices  on  the  right  and  left  of  me,  in  accents 
of  dismay. 

Jess  so  !  cried  another — -jess  so  !  And  never  shall 
I  forget  the  sound  to  my  dying  day;  you'd  have 
thought  his  wife  had  fallen  over-board — or  his  pocket- 
book. 

Cap'n  Thrip,  cap'n  Thrip  J  cried  a  little  gentleman 
what  lithped,  coming  forward  and  speaking  as  it  were 
with  a  mouthful  of  cotton-wool — it  aint  potheble  ! — 
Gentlemen  !  gentlemen  !  cried  Nicodemus  Trip  from 
the  further  part  of  the  table — the  ladies,  the  ladies  ! — 
gentlemen,  the  ladies ! 

The  ladies  had  long  been  trying  to  escape  from  the 
back-seats — each  waiting  for  all  the  others  to  begin 
the  move  ;  and  now  their  husband's,  lover's  and 
father's  beginning  to  perceive  a  certain  paleness  over 
spread  the  faces  of  some  who  had  been  very  cheerful 
on  deck,  started  up  and  made  way  for  them  to  escape 
as  well  as  they  could.  All  were  imprisoned,  not  a 
few  sea-sick,  and  others  far  too  sleepy  or  too  lazy  to 
move,  while  the  boat  went  pitching  and  rolling  with 
prodigious  swiftness,  andjhe  trampling  on  deck  was 
absolutely  deafening.  For  my  own  part,  as  I  could 
neither  escape,  unless  I  crawled  over  the  table  or 
under  it,  nor  get  a  nap  where  I  was,  I  determined  to 
seethe  dinner  through — and  make  the  most  of  it.  N. 
B.  I  am  keeping  my  promise  now. 

Cap'n  Thrip,  I  say  !— Wai  sir  ?— Be  you  deef?— No 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C»  101 

»ir,  I  believe  not,  what'll  you  please  to  have? — Why 
that  are  plaguy  boy  o'  yourn  hath  'ad  my  plate  thith 
half  hour  an'  more  too,  an'  I  aint  g£t  a  mouthful  yit; 
Jess  so  !  added  the  down-easter,  We  are  all  a  sufferin' 
here  in  jess  exactly  the  same  way. 

Very  sorry,  gentlemen,  very  sorry  indeed — what 
can  I  help  you  to,  this  way  T—  Thum  duck  an'  green 
peath,  if  you  pleath. 

Lord  help  the  man  !  whispered  Gage,  as  the  other 
continued  in  a  broken-hearted  whisper,  thatth  my 
only  chanth  here,  I  thee  plainly  ! — Why  stranger ! 
they've  all  ben  gone  this  half  hour,  said  the  Ken- 
tuckian — bones  an'  all  ;  Avast  there  ! — ben — bin— 
bean — I  wonder  which  is  accordin'  to  Gunter  ?  de 
manded  a  weather  beaten  sea-captain,  who  was  pass 
ing  at  the  moment. — None  o'  your — the  speaker 
happened  to  lift  his  eye  before  he  finished ;  where 
upon  he  made  a  full  stop  and  let  the  sea-captain  off 
end  then  followed  by  a  different  passage-way,  adding 
I  don't  believe  that  are  chap  '11  ever  set  the  north- 
river  afire  ! 

Nor  I — but  I  should'nt  wonder  if  he  was  to  try* 
added  the  swapper  on  my  left.  And  then  turning  to 
me — did'nt  you  never  hear  tell  Mr.  Potti — Pottipher ; 
speaking  to  me  with  his  mouth  full,  his  plate  full,  both 
hands  full,  and  a  heap  of  odds  and  ends  piled  up  along 
side  of  his  plate,  consisting  of  apples,  and  cheese, 
eake,  pie,  two  or  three  kinds  of  tart,  which  he  had 
tasted  and  rejected  I  thought,  for  he  made  a  wry-face 
over  each  as  he  laid  it  aside.  But  when  every  thing 
else  had  been  disposed  of,  he  began  to  nibble  at  these 
fragments,  which  disappeared  one  after  another,  to 
my  infinite  amazement,  before  he  took  down  his 
12 


102  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

elbows,  upon  which  he  was  leaning  in  profound 
thought — his  head  resting  by  the  ears  upon  his  clench 
ed  hands,  till  he  had  gobbled  up  (or  down  ?)  every  frag 
ment,  crumb  and  chip  of  the  whole  ;  and  then  he  lifted 
his  head  and  looked  about  him  so  innocently  !  as  if  he 
could  have  done  as  much  by  half  a  peck  more,  without 
knowing  it.  Judge  of  my  surprise  therefore,  when  I 
heard  him  say,  in  a  low  querulous  tone,  just  before  he 
left  the  table,  that  had  been  sick  ever  since  last  fall ; 
never  was  very  rugged,  an'  about  this  time  every 
year,  always  felt  wuss  than  ever  by  a  darned  sight — 
rather  pokerish  too  when  he  was  on  the  water— no 
kind  o'  sprawl.  It  aint  often  I  eat  any  thing,  said  he ; 
an'  when  I  do  eat,  I  dont  eat  much — but  the  leetle  I 
do  eat,  dooze  me  good — somehow  ! 

I  say  !  didn't  you  never  hear  tell — continued  he, 
with  his  two  eyes  starting  out  of  his  head,  an<r»  every 
button  of  his  coat  upon  the  full  stretch — here  you 
nigger !  I'll  have  my  brawth  now— Bad  'nuff  to  be 
poor  nigger  massa,  widout  hab  his  shin  kick,  said  the 
boy,  and  I  thought  so  too. — Come,  come,  beauty ! 
lets  have  the  brawth. 

What !  criedGage — after  eating  fish,  meat,  and  peas; 
pudding,  fruit,  roast-beef  and  pie — to  say  nothing  of 
chickens,  ducks  and  the  five  baskets  you  left — you're 
not  going  to  begin  again  with  soup  ! 

Free  country  neighbor — feller  may  eat  brawth  I 
hope,  whenever  he  likes,  if-  he  is  able  to  pay  for  it — 
or  (winking  at  his  confederate)  or  able  to  make 
another  pay  for  it,  an'  don't  eat  more  'n  his  'lowance; 
an'  more'n  all  that,  a  feller  can  eat  brawth  when  he 
can't  eat  nothin'  else  to  speak  of. 

Indeed  ! — To  be  sure  !  brawth  '11  go  where  hearty 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  103 

vittels  wunt,  I  ruther  guess.  Nothin'  better'n  brawth 
to  fill  up  the  chinks  with ;  and  what's  more  yit,  I'm 

of  opinion  that  a  dinner's  a  dinner no  matter 

who  pays  for't.  Now  mister,  you  don't  have  to  pay 
no  more  for  me,  than  that  are  little  cock-sparrer's 
dad  there  dooze  for  him  ;  an'  he  aint  eat  more'n  half 
a  dozen  pinches  o'  dough  since  he  com  aboard — which 
if  you  aint  observed  him  yourself,  you  may  ask  the 
cap'n — I  say  tho'  mister  I  want  you  should  give 
me  that  air  letter  o'  recommend  to  Feledelphy, 
afore  we  split — as  I  think  its  like  as  not  I  may  go 
that  way,  some  time  or  other ;  cost  you  nothin'  but 
the  paper — and  that  I'm  willin'  to  pay  for.  And 
then  turning  to  the  other,  he  added — was  them  your 
weddin'  spurs  't  I  see,  when  your  chist  gut  jounced 
open  frind  ? 

Wai !  I  swan  if  I  dont  think  you're  the  very  feller 
't  had  a  box  made  for  his  wife  't  opened  like  an  eight- 
day  clock-case,  the  very  mornin'  arter  he  was  tied 
up — an'  allaws  cared  the  key  with  him. 

How  ye  talk !  right  away  from  down-east  aint  ye, 
where  a  cow  an'  a  caff  an'  a  calico  gown  is  a  gals 
portion. 

An'  you're  from  the  place  ant  ye  ?  where  a  potater- 
patch,  with  cracks  int  so  wide,  that  the  grass-hoppers 
are  picked  up  at  the  bottom  by  handfuls — all  their 
necks  broke  trying  to  jump  over — is  a  portion  for  the 
oldest  son?  And  then  turning  to  me,  he  said,  his  father 
was  once  riding  by  one  of  the  great  farms  he  referred 
to,  when  observing  the  wretchedness  of  the  land,  he 
said — the  fellow  that  owns  this  must  be  plaguy  poor. 
Not  so  poor  as  you  think  for!  answered  a  voice  from 
the  blackberry-bushes — for  I  dont  own  but  a  third  on't 


104  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &,C. 

my  father  gin  away  one  third  to  git  a  man  take 
tother. 

Tumble  sight  o'  rain  lately — when'd  you  come 
down  ? 

Dreadful  sight  o'  weather  lately — when'd  you  come 
up  ? 

You  aint  acquainted  with  a  man  by  the  name  of 

Turney-General !  said  the  other  interrupting  him 
with  a  loud  laugh — or  the  chief-justice  o'  the  soo- 
preme  Judicial  court  hey? 

I  say  frind — turning  to  me  with  perfect  self- 
possession — I'm  some  tired  o'  that  fellers  gab ;  wish 
he'd  make  himself  skerce — all  jaw  like  a  sheeps 
head — only  ben  tryin'  out  the  stuff,  an'  you  see  all  its 
good  for :  and  now,  if  you  say  so,  I'll  tell  you  how  I 
found  you  out. 

Found  me  out  sir ! 

Found  ye  out — I'll  tell  ye — slick  as  awhistle  !  fetch 
ing  me  a  slap  on  the  thigh  ;  dont  be  fractious.  No 
fault  o'  your'n — people  has  to  be  born  putty  much 
where  other  folks  say,  barrin'  accidents ;  dare  say 
theres  some  honest  folks  enough  to  be  heard  of  that 
side  o'  the  water — cant  be  helped  now — make  the 
best  on't :  bear,  it  like  a  man  Mr.  Potipher — git  naite- 
ralized  right  away,  and  let  'em  lump  it  if  they  dont 
like  it,  an'  squirm  their  hides  off;  that's  none  o'  your 
look  out — is  it  1  All  fair  when  you're  made  a 
natyve. 

Or  a  representatyve,  and  sent  to  the  legisslatoore,. 
added  Gage. 

Jess  so  ! 

But  sir,  said  I — mr — a — a — what  may  I  call  your 
name? 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &.C.  105 

Fairfield  sir.  Obadiah  G.  Fairfield,  seventh  son  of 
Bigah  S.  T.  Fairfield  an'  Marcey  his  wife,  both  o' 
Groton,  old  Massatusetts — can  you  spell  Massa- 
tusetts  ? 

No — but  please  to  tell  me  how  you  found  me  out, 
as  you  term  it? 

Aint  tired  any,  air  ye?  Maybe  you'd  better  lay 
down,  had'nt  ye. — No  I  thank  ye. — Had'nt  ye  better  ? 
Not  berths  enough  I'm  afeard,  whispered  somebody 
else.  That  may  depend  upon  the  length  of  the 
passage  added  another,  very  innocently,  glancing  at 
the  ladies  cabin,  where  a  tremendous  pow  wow  had 
just  broken  out,  Such  a  screaming  of  mothers  !  and 
such  a  squalling  of  babies — the  dear  creatures — you 
never  heard  ashore  in  all  your  life,  no  matter  what  your 
profession  may  be,  nor  what  your  experience.  No 
two  of  the  whole  were  quiet  for  five  minutes  together, 
till  the  end  of  the  passage. 

Why,  continued  the  swapper,  in  reply  to  my  ques 
tion  :  Before  we'd  ben  together  long,  you  says,  says 
you,  to  that  air  tother  chap  there — a  friend  o'  you'rn 
I  spose  aint  he  ? — but  you  dont  care  much  about 
knowin',  arter  all,  I  see. 

You  are  mistakin — I  should  like  to  know. 

Should  ye !  would'nt  give  a  trifle  to  know,  would 


ye 


A  trifle — yes  :  not  much  though- 


O  ye  would,  would  ye  ? — dont  know  what  you'd 
consider  a  trifle — would'nt  mind  a  drop  o'  somethin 
to  set  fire  to  the  cobwebs,  would  ye  ?  Aint  very 
stingey,  air  ye  ? 

Not  very. 

Thought  so !  look  to  me  a  right  down  ginerous 


106  THE    DOWN    EASTER8,    &C.    &C. 

feller  ;  but  some  folks  when  they're  travellin'  for 
pleasure  ;  plaguy  close-fisted. 

Indeed. 

Oh  yes — that  they  air — closer  'an  button-wood- 
bark  ;  aa'  whatever  you  git  out  o'  them,  you  git  by 
the  skin  o'  their  teeth.  Would'nt  mind  tellin'  you 
the  whool — honor  bright  now — right  off  the  reel,  as 
quick's  a  flash,  if  you'd  do  the  thing  that's  hansum. 

And  what  do  you  call  the  thing  that's  hansum  ? 

Why,  shell  out  for  three — two  besides  yourself — 
I  allays  bate  for  three,  so  that  I  may  take  in  a  friend, 
now  and  then 

You  never  lose  a  chance  to  take  in  a  friend,  I  dare 
say? 

Not  I !  love  to  be  neighborly — do  as  you  are  done 
by — that's  my  way ;  an'  a  drop  or  two  o'  real 

ginoyne what  say  ye  to  whiskey  for  three  ?    with 

a  slap  on  my  shoulder  that  I  can  feel  to  this  day, 
whenever  I  think  of  my  unpreparedness  and  of  the 
echo  that  followed  the  blow.  What  say  ye  to  whis 
key  for  three  ! 

I  assented,  and  my  man  was  just  going  to  clench 
the  bargain  with  a  shake  of  the  hand,  when  hearing 
a  slight  rustle  and  turning  my  head  quickly,  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  little  scrap  of  paper  passing  under  a 
plate  towards  the  fellow  I  was  chaffering  with,  who, 
as  he  pretended  to  look  another  way,  though  I  con 
tinued  to  watch  him  all  tEe  time,  read  it  instantly, 
with  a  glance  at  the  decanter  of  whiskey  then  actually 
on  the  table  and  furnished  gratis  to  the  company. — 
And  then  he  blushed — upon  my  soul  he  did  ! — blushed 
to  the  very  heart  I  dare  say — adding  in  a  different 
voice,  would'nt  say  wine  for  three,  would  ye  I 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &,C.    &C.  107 

Yes  but  I  would  though — to  the  emount  of  a  bottle 
or  two. 

Wai  then  !  fact  is  frind  Potipher — stopping  to  draw 
a  long  breath — if  we  should  happen  to  be  snapped  up, 
that  was  the  very  word — snapped-up — or  fired  into 
by  one  o'  the  innimy,  twould  be  no  more  'n  what  we 

all  desarve — might  a  gone  by  the  stage — jess  so  ! 

And  with  that  says  I — but  have  yer  made  up  your 
mind,  hey  ? 

My  mind — for  what  pray 

Never  to  part  with  her. 

I  stared. 

There  now  !  that's  right  down  ugly  o'  you  :  know 
what  I  mean  as  well  as  any  body. 

Upon  my  word  I  do  not  though ;  I  have  no  idea  of 
what  you  mean. 

"Why  Lord  you  !  (squeaking)  I  mean  that  everlastin' 
time-piece  o'  yourn,  that  you  concait  is  goold — now 
have  you  made  up  your  mind  never  to  part  with  her — 
yes  or  no  ? 

No. 

Uglier  an'  uglier,  by  Moses  !  I  dont  often  swear, 
an'  when  I  do,  I  dont  swear  much,  but  the  little  I  do 
swear  dooze  me  good !  (with  a  still  higher  and  sharper 
squeak).  But  when  a  feller's  in  airnest,  why  the 

• dickens  ! cant  you  tell  us,  hey  t 

Hav'nt  made  up  yer  mind  though,  have  ye  ? 

No.  But  answer  my  question  and  we'll  talk  about 
the  watch  afterwards. 

Will  yer  tho' !  thats  a  good  feller !  Fact  is  then, 
talking  about  the  British,  ye  said  says  you,  they  aint 
any  more  to  blame  for  havin'  a  king  than  we  air  for 
bavin'  a  president — jess  so  ! — jess  as  people's  brought 


108  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

up,  says  you ;  some  folks  likes  a  king,  an'  some 
doozent — poor  critters !  And  then  ye  koted  some 
varses,  pair  o'  varses  we  call  'em — about  fools  ai  ad- 
minstations,  so't  I  could  see  plain  enough  which  side 
you  was  on,  without  goin  skonickin'  round  arter  you 
much  further. 
I  remember  it — 

Tor  forms  of  government,  let  fools  contest, 
That  which  is  best  administered,  is  best — hey? 

Jess  so !  an'  then  arter  that,  ye  kind  o'  made 
believe  't  you'd  never  hearn  tell  how  nigh  we  come 
to  takin'  the  biggest  half  o'  the  old  country  in  one 
scrape — two  more  privateers  an'  we  might  'a  took 
tother  half,  as  Paul  Jones  an'  commodore  Tucker  told 
the  king  to  his  teeth. 

Nor  did  I  ever  hear  of  the  circumstance  before. 
How  did  it  happen — where — when  ? 

There  now  !  thats  jess  the  way  with  all.  To  look 
at  ye,  a  body  would  think  you'd  never  hearn  tell  o* 
the  revolutioniary  war — nor  general  Gage — nor  old 

Put— likely  story  for  a  man  o'  your  years.  Ah,  is 

that  you,  master  Puriniton  ?  haint  seed  you  afore — 
where  ye  from?  how  long  ben  aboard? — where  ye 
gwyin'  to  ? — what  are  ye  doin'  of  South  ? — how'd  ye 
leave  the  family — hope  the  whole  on  'em's  well, 
hey?  &c.  &c. 

Cleverly  I  thank  ye  !  And  with  this  one  reply  to 
the  others  five-and-forty  question,  he  moved  on. 

Jess  the  way  with  ye  all,  continued  Fairfield — aint 
a  copper  to  choose ;  never  see  an  ole  countryman  yit 
twould'nt  face  a  feller  down  about  that  are  story 
where  Gineral  Washinton  (which  he  was  only  a 
youngster  at  the  time)  went  ashore  with  Paul  Jone* 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  109 

an'  come  pretty  plaguy  near  carin'  off  th&  whole 
royal  family,  crown,  jewels,  prince  o'  Wales  an'  all — 
proper  sight  on  'em  there  was  too,  by  all  accounts — 
and  tippin'  the  ole  tower  into  the  sea.  Chock  full  o' 
prejudyce  yit ;  any  body  can  see  that. 

Prejudice!  how  so — in  what  way  ? 

Haint  forgot  the-  ole  war.     May  be  you've  never 
hearn  tell  o'  that  nyther — hey  ? 

Yes  but  I  have  though. 

O,  ye  have,  have  ye?  Wai  thats  somethin'  for  you 
to  give  up  any  how. 

For  me  to  give  up.     Why  what  the  devil  do  you 
take  me  for  ?  ' 
.    Take  ye  for  !  Why  for  one  o'  the  innimy. 

One  of  the  enemy  ! 

To  be  sure  ! an  Englishman. 

But  I  am  not  an  Englishman. 

What not  Irish  I  hope  ? — moving  off  with 

visible  trepidation. 

No. 

Nor  Scotch  ? 

No! 

Why  what  on  the  face  o'  the  universal  airth,  air  ye 
then  ? 

An  American  sir — a  native  American. 

You ! moving    still    further   off,    and    hastily 

gathering  up  his  duds  from  the  bench — you  a  natyve 
American  ! 

Yes  !  a  native  New-Englander — a  through-bred 
Yankee. 

This  was  altogether  too  much  for  my  conspirators. 
Amos !  cried  one,  with  a  look  of  dismay.  Obadi — 
ah !  groaned  the  other ;  and  then  they  interchanged  a 

K 


110  THE  J>OWN    EASTERS,    <fcc.    &C, 

look  of  such  piteable  amazement  and  perplexity,  that 
I  eould'nt  help  thinking  they  were  more  than  half 
sorry  for  having  preyed  upon  their  own  kith  and  kin — 
for  the  Yankees  of  old — the  Hebrew  Yankees  were 
forbidden  to  do  this  ;  while  they  were  encouraged  to 
profit  by  the  stranger. — It  may  be  however  that  they 
had  only  some  secret  misgivings,  that  they  were  afraid 
of  being  outwitted  after  all,  when  they  discovered  the 
truth.  At  this  moment  there  was  a  faint  cry  on  deck, 
followed  instantly — instantly — by  another  in  a  diffe 
rent  voice,  louder  and  nearer  and  uttered  with  a 
most  apalling  intonation.  "What  my  own  thoughts 
were  I  do  not  know ;  but  this  I  do  know,  that  all  the 
faces  about  me  grew  suddenly  and  frightfully  pale,  as 
if  death-struck,  and  that  we  all  started  up  and  stood 
holding  our  breath  and  looking  at  one  another  as  if — 
Gracious  God  ! — I  never  shall  forget  the  unspeakable 
horror  of  that  one  moment — never — never — though  I 
should  live  a  thousand  years  ! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  moment  of  death-like  stillness  followed,  and  then 
there  was  another  faint  sobbing  cry  afar  off,  a  shriek 
at  my  very  elbow  that  thrilled  through  and  through 
me — a  great  rush  overhead — a  loud  trampling  on 
deck — two  or  three  heavy  rolls,  and  a  lurch,  accom 
panied  by  a  trembling  of  the  timbers  that  frightened 
me  half  out  of  my  senses,  and  a  screaming  from 
every  part  of  the  ship,  growing  louder  and  louder  at 
every  roll.  In  the  belief  that  we  were  going  down, 
and  that  I  had  not  a  moment  to  lose,  I  sprang  for  the 
companion-way,  overturning  every  body  in  the  pas 
sage,  and  arrived  on  deck  just  in  time  to  see  a  large 
powerful  man  go  headfirst  over  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
as  she  recovered  from  the  last  roll  and  swung  round 
with  a  heavy  lurch  to  the  leward,  jarring  and  shiver 
ing  through  all  her  timbers  at  every  dip  of  the 
wheels — the  women  clinging  to  whatever  they  hap 
pened  to  be  near,  their  white  veils  and  dishevelled 
hair  streaming  away  from  their  grasp,  and  their  clothes 
rattling  fiercely  in  the  wind — the  frighted  passengers 
trying  to  assist  the  crew,  and  running  about  hither  and 
thilher  at  every  cry  of  the  captain — Gage  struggling 
with  somebody  whom  I  afterwards  found  to  be  Gerard 
Middleton,  the  handsome  young  Southerner,  and  call 
ing  for  assistance,  within  a  few  feet  of  the  opening 
gangway — the  sea  roaring  and  flashing  directly  under 
their  feet,  with  the  swift  brightness  of  a  torrent — a 
portion  of  the  lee-bulwarks  carried  away  and  the 


112  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

heavy  gate  hanging  by  the  top  hinge,  and  swinging  to 
and  fro  with  a  violence  that  nothing  could  resist. 

Save  her  !  save  her  !  screamed  another  and  another 
female  voice.  Heavenly  Father  !  save  her  !  shouted 
Middleton,  disengaging  his  right-arm  and  grasping 
the  shattered  bulwark,  against  which  his  powerful 
adversary  had  planted  his  foot,  and  was  bearing  with 
all  the  strength  of  his  body — the  huge  gate  shrieking 
and  clapping  at  brief  intervals,  with  a  noise  that  over 
powered  every  thing  else — the  deck  slippery  with 
spoon-drift — and  the  sea  roaring  for  its  prey. 

Stop  the  engine !  cried  Gage,  with  a  voice  like  a 
trumpet.  Heave  her  about  captain  Trip,  and  I  will 
answer  for  her  safety — Gerard  Middleton  ! 

They  were  now  within  a  few  inches  of  the  very 
brink — the  sea  almost  on  a  level  with  their  feet — 
wrestling  together  as  with  all  their  strength 

Gerard  Middleton  !  I  swear  to  you  by  the  Ever 
lasting  God  that  if  you  go — we  go  together ! 

Be  it  so  !  cried  Middleton  stooping  for  a  last  effort 
as  he  spoke — and  the  next  moment  he  was  pitched 
head-long  into  the  midst  of  a  coil  of  rigging  that  lay 
aft.  Courage!  courage!  cried  his  antagonist,  follow 
ing  him  and  standing  over  him,  ready  to  renew  the 
attack  if  he  stirred  with  an  evil  purpose.  Courage  ! 
down  with  your  boat  my  boys !  over  with  all 
your  split-wood. — Ay,  ay,  shouted  the  captain,  se 
curing  the  heavy  gate  as  he  spoke,  and  lashing  it 
home  with  the  strength  of  a  giant — away  with  ye, 
my  lads  ! 

And  away  with  the  women  too  !  cried  Gage — they 
have  no  business  here — away  with  you  to  the  cabiu 
ladies  !  we'll  answer  for  your  safety,  if  you'll  betake 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  113 

yourselves  to  prayer  in  a  quiet  way — and  leave  off 
screaming 

Cant  hear  yourself  speak  now,  cried  a  sailor — and 
away  flew  the  split  wood  from  both  sides  of  the  deck, 
and  away  scampered  the  wompn. 

Over  with  it  my  lads  !  over  with  it !  chairs,  tables 
and  all !  continued  captain  Trip — and  instantly  the 
waters  on  both  sides  of  our  path  were  covered  with 
every  thing  buoyant  that  lay  within  reach — you'd 
have  thought  our  deck  had  been  swept  by  a  West 
India  hurricane — and  as  I  ran  aft,  where  Middleton 
was  lying  apparently  insensible,  with  Gage  standing 
over  him  like  a  roused  lion  over  a  refractory  cub,  I 
saw  a  man  pull  down  a  large  box  from  a  pile  of  lug 
gage — empty  it  on  deck  with  one  blow  of  his  foot— 
secure  the  lid — stop  the  key-hole  with  a  wad  of 
oakum — run  as  far  aft  as  he  could  go — and  wait  there 
till  another  who  had  just  kicked  off  his  boots — laid 
aside  his  coat  and  hat  as  deliberately  as  if  he  were 
going  to  an  afternoon's  nap — and  who,  calling  upon 
captain  Trip  to  take  notice,  that  they  were  left  in  his 
charge,  and  that  he  must  be  answerable  for  .them  if  any 
thing  happened, — got  ready  for  a  plunge.  It  was  all 
the  work  of  a  minute  or  two — hardly  more — and  it 
was  only  after  the  struggle  was  over  and  the  terror 
no  more,  that  I  had  time  to  arrange  the  circumstances 
in  my  memory  as  they  occurred.  The  two  then 
heaved  the  box  overboard — the  brave  boat  wore 
round  at  the  same  instant — and  over  went  the  last- 
mentioned  man,  just  as  I  staggered  to Jhe  lee-railing, 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  strong  swimmer  afar  off, 
and  right  in  our  wake,  where  our  pathway  was  all 

white  and  luminous  with  the  irrisistable  thundering  of 
K2 


114  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

our  wheels  in  their  backward  revolution.  As  I  look 
ed,  I  saw  something  more — yet  further  off  and  in  a 
different  direction — a  mass  of  white  drapery  buoyed 
tip  and  whirling  and  eddying  with  the  suift  waters. 
I  stretched  out  my  arms  involuntarily  and  might  have 
gone  overboard  too,  but  for  Gage — for  my  heart  died 
within  me — and  I  felt  sure — ay,  strange  as  it  may 
seem — perfectly  sure  that  she,  in  whom  I  had  felt  so 
much  interest,  she  and  no  other,  was  now  beyond  the 
reach  of  him  and  of  help.  I  could  even  persuade 
myself,  as  I  stood  clinging  to  the  rails,  and  gasping 
for  breath,  and  watching  what  I  saw  in  the  distance, 
that  I  could  see  her  arms  uplifted  in  her  agony,  and 
her  dark  lustrous  hair  washing  over  her  beautiful 
face 

And  there  we  stood,  I  know  not  how  long,  they 
and  I  to  the  number  of  twenty  or  thirty  altogether, 
helpless  and  speechless,  gazing  as  if  fascinated  with 
terror  upon  the  white  halo,  as  it  appeared  to  be  slowly 
and  gradually  sinking  into  the  depth  of  waters.  And 
yet  there  was  hope — .-;ome  hope — for  every  blow  of 
the  engine,  every  revolution  of  the  wheel  brought  us 
nearer,  and  the  boats  were  already  cast  off,  and  the 
oars  were  bending  to  the  resolute  fellows  that  manned 
them  ;  while  the  roar  of  the  sea  and  the  noise  of  the 
wheels  aboard  were  not  enough  to  overpower  the 
encouraging  cries  of  pull  away  !  pull  away  !  thats 
your  sort  my  lads — pull  avsay  ! 

One  of  the  two  persons  who  had  jumped  over 
board  was  now  found  to  be  on  the  wrong  side  of  our 
path,  while  the  other  had  entirely  disappeared,  and 
we  were  looking  about  and  enquiring  with  our  eyes, 
for  most  of  us  were  afraid  or  unable  to  speak,  who 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  115 

he  was  and  where  he  was,  with  a  feeling  of  the 
deepest  anxiety.  A  breathless  silence  had  succeeded 
to  the  overwhelming  uproar.  Captain  Trip,  Avho  was 
below  when  the  accident  happened,  had  now  got  com 
mand  of  his  vessel,  and  you  might  have  heard  a  pin 
drop  fore  and  aft  her  whole  length,  but  for  the  noise 
of  the  machinery  and  the  ringing  of  the  loud  waters 
when  struck  by  the  paddles,  or  thundering  across  our 
pathway. 

One  circumstance  I  never  shall  forget — here  stood 
the  old  man — the  aged  grandfather — I  could  have 
sworn  to  the  relationship  at  a  glance — unutterable 
terror  and  hope  and  faith,  and  more  than  a  grand 
father's  love,  all  struggling  together  for  mastery  in 
his  agitated  countenance — and  each  prevailing  by 
turns.  As  he  stood  holding  on  by  the  rail,  with  his 
hat  off,  his  hair  blowing  about  his  venerable  face,  and 
his  dim  eyes  fixed  upon  the  disappearing  brightness — 
the  white  robe  of  his  dear  child  fast  vanishing,  for 
ever  and  ever  into  the  depths  of  the  terrible  sea — 
forever  and  ever  ! — I  saw  him  glance  at  poor  Middle- 
ton,  who  was  lying  on  a  bench  near,  as  if  utterly 
overcome  by  the  struggle — and  I  thought  I  could 
perceive  a  look  of  self-reproach,  on  the  one  part  and 
a  look  of  pity  on  the  other. 

How  it  happened  that  I  did  nothing  but  stare — 
first  at  one  object  and  then  at  another,  all  this  time, 
I  do  not  know — I  never  knew — it  is  not  my  way  in 
seasons  of  danger — I  never  lost  my  self-command 
before  ;  and  though  but  a  poor  swimmer  and  of  course 
utterly  incapable  of  helping  a  fellow-creature  in  such 
an  extremity  by  jumping  over-board,  still  I  might 
have  been  of  some  use  in  some  other  way,  I  think 


116  THE   DOWK   EASTERS,   <fcc.   &C. 

now,  if  I  had  not  been  stupified  by  the  suddenness 
and  singularity  of  the  adventure ;  and  my  heart  has 
reproached  me  a  thousand  and  a  thousand  times  since 
for  my  boyish  helplessness  at  the  time — babyish  I 
might  say — as  I  and  some  thirty  more  able-bodied 
men  stood  there,  motionless  and  speechless,  waiting 
the  issue  of  life  and  death  to  one  of  that  most  beauti 
ful  of  God's  creatures,  without  one  cry — and  I  am 
afraid  without  one  prayer ;  though,  as  I  hope  for 
mercy  hereafter,  I  would  have  risked  my  life  any 
where — at  any  time — for  almost  any  body — in  almost 
any  other  \vay ;  and  but  for  the  latter  part  of  our 
acquaintance,  might  have  done  it  for  her.  Let  others 
expound  the  riddle  that  have  the  courage — I  have 
not. 

Another  and  another  faint  cry  reached  us,  and  then, 
just  as  the  leading  boat  was  rounding  to,  and  one  of 
the  oars  was  lifted  as  if  to  touch  the  object,  the 
drapery  shivered  and  shook,  and  the  boat  lurched  and 
drifted  away  and  appeared  to  be  unmanageable.  We 
shut  our  eyes.  And  when  we  looked  that  way  again, 
we  were  very  near,  and  lo  !  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  a  large  spot  near  the  top  of  the  water,  some 
what  lighter-colored  than  the  rest  over  the  smooth 

dark  level  of  the  sea Ah !  the  shriek !  the  loud 

unearthly,  overwhelming  shriek  that  followed  !  Every 
heart  burst  forth  at  once  on  every  siflr  of  mo — above 
and  below — as  with  a  cry  of-horror.  We  altered  our 
course  and  were  shooting  by,  swifter  and  more  swiftly 
at  every  revolution  of  the  wheels,  when  we  heard 
voices  from  the  sea  right  under  our  bows  ;  and  again 
we  were  breathless  and  anxious,  though  not  so  much 
la  terror  now,  as  in  hope.  A  moment  more,  and 


THE    DOWX    EASTERS,    <fec.    &C.  117 

cries  of  keep  her  away !  keep  her  away  !  you'll  run 
us  down ! — back  the  engine  !  were  heard  from  the 
sea  and  from  the  deck,  followed  by — there  she  is  ! 
hurrah  ! — all  safe,  hurrah  ! — Amos  '11  bring  her  up,  as 
sure  as  a  die — didnt  I  tell  yer  so  !  fish  up  oysters  fore 
to  day.  I  say — you — mister ! — it  was  the  yankee  who 
had  thrown  the  chest  over,  speaking  to  somebody 
whom  I  was  unable  to  see,  as  he  appeared  to  be  just 
under  our  bows — Here,  take  my  hat !  mind  though 
you  must  pay  for  it,  case  and  all,  if  you're  ever  wuth 
enough  arter  ye  git  ashore — there  tis !  cost  four- 
sixty-nine  cash,  Boston  money — one  thirty-one  allow 
ed  for  the  odds  o'  Philadelphy  an'  no  dicker — turn 
the  mouth  down,  and  keep  it  under  water  with  a  good 
grip  an'  hold  it  there — stiddy,  stiddy  ! — and  you 
might  as  well  try  to  drown  a  bladder  ;  there  !  you've 
gut  the  knack  now,  and  you  may  float  this  half  hour  ; 
and  if  you  git  tired  a  few,  sing  out  to  me,  and  I'll 
spell  ye  ! 

The  moment  he  began  to  speak,  I  ran  forward, 
and  saw  a  large  powerful  man — it  proved  to  be  the 
Tennessee-youth,  apparently  quite  exhausted,  and  fast 
dropping  a-stern ;  yet  holding  on  by  the  hat,  with  its 
mouth  under  water  and  floating  as  if  buoyed  up  with 
a  cork-jacket. 

Thats  you  stranger  !  never  mind  me  ;  you  look  out 
for  the  wimmen-folks  and  I'll  take  care  o'  myself — 
ride-and-tie  if  I  cant  do  better ;  haint  swum  the  'Hio 
for  nothin'  I  warrant  ye,  six  months  upon  the  stretch, 
five  knot  and  a  half  agin  the  stream  with  a  buffalo 
under  each  arm,  and  a  catamount  on  my  back — putty 
severe  boatin'  tho'  where  I  am.  Something  mere  he 
added  in  a  cheerful  voice,  but  we  were  already  out 
of  reach,  and  the  next  moment,  another  loud,  joyful 


118  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

and  long  reiterated  cry  announced  that  the  object  of 
our  search  had  re-appeared  once  more.  I  looked — 
and  saw  both  boats,  which  were  now  a  long  way  off, 
pulling  together  toward  a  spot  where  something 
appeared  like  another  very  small  boat.  While  I 
was  yet  looking,  somebody  rose  up  from  it,  and 
plunged  into  the  sea.  A  moment  more,  and  a  slight 
glimmering  broke  through  the  water,  and  the  blue 
chest  emerged  in  full  sight  before  our  path,  and  lay 
rocking  upon  the  surface.  Hourray  !  hourray!  cried 
a  voice  at  my  elbow,  did'nt  I  tell  ye  so  !  He'll  have 
her  now !  if  he  dont,  there's  no  sneks.  When  he 
div  the  last  time  I  knew  what  he  was  arter — hourray ! 
There  now  !  capering  about  the  deck  and  rubbing  his 
hands  for  joy — there  now  !  see  as  well  under  water  as 
you  can  see  here.  Brung  up  to  divin'  at  Pawtucket 
Falls — ever  there  any  on  ye  ? — seen  'em  jump  off  the 
rich  pole  o'  the  Factory  there,  five  stories  high  ? — 
swim  like  a  fish — feared  o'  nothin'  dead  or  alive — 
dont  be  in  sich  a  tarnal  feeze  neighbor  (to  the  grand 
father,  whose  countenance  I  never  shall  forget  as  he 
stood  there — hardly  venturing  to  let  go  his  hold  or  to 
look  toward  the  sea).  Bate  ye  what  ye  like  ye'll  see 
her  agin.  There  now  ! — see  there  ! — did'nt  I  tell  ye 
so,  as  the  old  woman  said,  when  the  hog  oct  the 
grinstone,  hurray ! 

As  he  spoke,  a  strong  arm  appeared  pushed  forth 
from  the  dread  level  of  the  deep,  and  clutching  a  mass 
of  white  drapery.  A  short  brief  struggle  ensued — 
one  end  of  the  blue  chest  tilted  in  the  air — and  a  voice 
came  up  with  more  than  mortal  energy,  as  out  of  the 
very  jaws  of  Death,  saying — Obadiah  !  Obadiah  !  I've 
gut  her,  by  jingo  ! 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  119 

Hourray  for  you!  you  old  rascal  you;  thats  our 
Amos  !  if  taint  I'm  a  chowderhead ;  jess  like  him — 
hourray ! 

I  shall  not  hourray  !  I  never  hourray  till  I'm  out  of 
the  woods,  answered  the  other. 

Jess  so !  cried  the  first,  fetching  the  old  man  a  slap 
on  the  back,  and  cutting  another  caper  with  both  feet 
in  the  air.  Ever  see  sich  a  feller  ? 

By  this  time  both  boats  were  along  side  of  the 
sufferer,  and  by  the  help  of  the  blue  chest  and  a  rope 
or  two,  and  a  spare  bench,  they  were  all  safe. 

Now  my  lads  !  now  pull  away  for  that  fine  fellow 
astern !  cried  Gage. 

Ay,  ay  sir  !     And  away  they  sprung. 

Could'nt  ye  spell  a  feller,  hey  ?  shouted  the  man 
with  the  box,  evidently  exhausted  with  the  fatigue  of 
supporting  his  burthen,  which  was  now  in  full  sight — 
her  eyes  closed,  and  her  beautiful  hair  all  about  over 
his  broad  shoulders. 

Over  went  one  of  the  crew  and  a  passenger,  head 
first  in  reply. 

And  over  went  Gage  after  them,  not  head-first  like 
the  others,  but  steadily  and  safely  by  a  rope ;  and 
over  went  the  youthful  Georgian  after  him,  though  he 
could'nt  swim  his  length,  and  had  only  been  prevented 
by  Gage  from  throwing  himself  overboard  where 
certain  death  awaited  him.  • 

Ah  my  brave  fellow  !  cried  Gage  to  the  yankee,  as 
he  dropped  into  the  water,  holding  only  the  rope  with 
one  hand — What  ails  you  ?  are  you  hurt  ? 

Jess  you  mind  your  own  business  an'  take  care  o' 
the  gal.  When  she's  safe,  you  may  give  me  a  boost 
if  you  like hulloo,  hey,  what! — there's  another 


120  THE    DOWN   EASTERS,    &.C.    &C, 

fellow  over  there  cant  swim  a  mouthful,  you  take 
care  o'  him»  will  ye ;  I'm  too  tired  for  that — pocky 
tarnal  tired,  I  ruther  guess. 

Gracious  God — Middleton — is  that  you !  cried  Gage, 
leaving  the  poor  girl  and  her  exhausted  preserver,  to 
take,  care  of  themselves,  and  pulling  after  the  adven 
turous  madman  like  a  giant. 

I  had  it  now  in  my  power  to  be  of  some  use — a 
little — not  much  ;  and  intending  to  share  in  the  glory 
of  the  achievement,  I  grasped  at  the  poor  girl,  stoop 
ing  over  the  bulwarks  to  do  so,  and  with  the  help  of 
two  or  three  more,  succeeded  in  lifting  her,  speech 
less  and  to  all  appearance  lifeless,  into  the  arms  of 
the  women  who  had  gathered  about  us  ;  and  was 
turning  away  to  assist  the  poor  old  grandfather,  when 
I  heard  the  voice  of  the  yankee  below  crying  out — 
hang  on  !  hang  on  !  by  gosh  I'll  treat !  "Whereupon 
I  looked  over  and  beheld  Obadiah  the  swapper,  drag 
ging  Amos  out  of  the  great  deep,  literally,  by  the  hair 
of  the  head. 

Mind  the  kew  Diah  !  mind  the  kew  I  tell  you  ;  its 
apt  to  stretch! there't  goes  ! 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  when  the 
quieu  parted  near  the  middle,  the  upper  part  slipping 
off  like  the  skin  of  a  squirel's  tail,  and  letting  poor 
Amos  into  the  sea  again,  over  head  and  ears.  It  was 
half  a  minute  before  he  came  up,  and  when  he  did, 
the  first  words  he  spoke  after  getting  his  breath  were — 
Did'nt  I  tell  ye  so  ? 

Did'nt  I  tell  ye  so  !  retorted  the  other  looking  at 
the  end  of  the  quieu  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  as  if 
he  himself  were  drowning.  Who'd  a  thought  o' 
your  wearin'  a  false  kew  !  Darn  me  if  I  dont  believe 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  131 

the  story  Eunice  Blair  told  me  about  ye  teeth  notr — 
I  'member  seein'  a  sojer  scalped  once  'twore  a  wig, 
and  the  Indian  was  most  frightened  o'  the  two — aint 
ye  ashamed  o'  yourself,  our  Amos? 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BUT  enough.  All  were  rescued,  all  in  safety,  and 
we  were  then  at  leisure  to  enquire  into  the  cause  of 
the  accident.  It  appeared  that  poor  Elizabeth  was 
leaning  against  the  rail  of  the  lee-gang-way,  which 
had  worked  loose  or  been  left  unfastened,  and  that, 
as  half  a  score  of  the  little  romps,  who  had  taken  ad 
vantage  of  a  clear  deck  while  their  mamas  and  the 
he-creatures  were  at  dinner  below,  to  have  a  little 
noise,  were  engaged  in  a  race,  one  of  them  ran  against 
her  and  she  was  precipitated  backwards — ay,  back 
wards — into  the  foaming  unfathomable  deep. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  upon  her  deliverer.  The 
poor  girl  once  in  charge  of  the  women,  he  was  by  far 
the  most  interesting  personage  aboard — I  can  see  him 
this  moment ! — there  he  stands !  the  great  long  raw- 
boned,  half-Scotch,  half  methodist-looking  fellow, 
with  his  arms  dangling  to  his  knees,  the  water  running 
in  a  puddle  from  the  legs  of  his  trowsers,  and  his  coal- 
black  hair  streaming  over  his  shoulders  like  the  mane 
of  a  cart-horse.  While  we  were  standing  about  him, 
the  grandfather  appeared  on  deck,  and  passing  by  all 
the  rest  of  us,  went  straightway  up  to  him,  and,  withr 
out  paying  any  attention  whatever  to  our  numberless 
enquiries,  took  him  by  both  hands — then  stopped  be 
fore  him,  and  struggled  with  himself  for  half  a  minute 
or  more,  trying  to  speak — and  then  turning  away,  be 
gan  to  sob  like  a  child.  I  do  not  know  that  I  was 
ever  so  much  affected  in  my  life.  Again  he  made  the 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C.  123 

attempt,  and  again  he  was  obliged  to  turn  away,  with 
his  heart  too  full  for  speech,  faltering  out  a  word  or 
two  about  the  Preserver  of  Men. 

Jess  so  !  cried  Obadiah  G.  Fairfield,  rubbing  his 
forepaws  together,  capering  about  the  deck,  and 
hourrawing  at  intervals.  Beats  all  nater  !  Allys  the 
way  with  our  Amos — and^testifying  his  joy[by  athous] 
and  uncouth  extravagancies,  which  I  now  began  to  see 
through.  They  were  brothers — our  Amos  had  be 
trayed  their  relationship. 

At  last  I  heard  the  old  grandfather  say — I  do  not 
know  how  to  thank  thee ;  I  am  getting  very  childish  ; 
but  if  thee  will  go  with  us  to  Philadelphia  and  see  her 
mother  and  the  rest  of  our  family,  they  will  satisfy 
thee  perhaps,  that  though  we  are  a  people  of  few 
words,  we  are  not  o'  the  unthankful  or  the  forgetful. 

No,  I  thank  ye,  no  occasion  said  Amos,  beginning 
to  haul  on  his  coat  over  his  dripping  clothes- — no 
proud  flesh  here  nyther  frind — what  may  I  call  yer 
name? 

Abraham  Leach. 

Well  then,  if  its  all  the  same  to  you  Abraham,  as  I 
aint  much  used  to  your  ways,  nor  you  to  mine — and 
then  he  stopped,  grew  very  pale,  and  asked  for  a 
bandage  and  something  warm  to  take  the  chill  off; 
and  then,  before  we  could  put  forth  a  hand  to  help 
him,  though  twenty  of  us  were  standing  about,  he 
staggered  away  with  outstretched  arms,  and  fell  his 
whole  length  upon  the  wet  slippery  deck,  within  three 
feet  of  the  open  gangway — the  passage-way  to  another 
world.  Then  it  was,  and  not  till  then,  that  we  saw 
the  whole  strength  of  his  character.  On  lifting  him 
up,  we  found  his  breast  severely  cut,  and  his  left  arm 
disabled. 


134  THE  DOWN  EASTERS,  <kc.  &c. 

Gracious  God !  he  is  bleeding  to  death,  cried  one* 
of  the  bystanders. 

Not  by  two  chalks !  muttered  Amos ;  wan't  brung 
up  in  the  medders  to  be  kicked  to  death  by  grasshop 
pers  ;  howsomever  frinds,  if  its  all  the  same  to  you,  I 
should  like  a  bandage  to  sling  my  arm,  with  a  sheet 
or  two  o'  brown  paper  for  my  head,  a  handful  o' 
wormwood  bruised  with  a  wine  glass  o'  New-England 
— rayal  ginwyne,  (smacking  his  white  lips,)  and  a 
mug  half  an'  half — two  mugs  I  should  say  ;  for  I  owe 
that  are  chap  there  a  handsome  treat,  (nodding  to 
Obadiah,  who  held  up  the  fag  end  of  the  quieu  in  re 
ply,)  and  Amos  O.  P.  Fairfield  aint  one  of  them  air  't 
play  sherk,  I  ruther  guess,  when  it  comes  to  a  treat ; 
if  it  hadn't  a  ben  for  'Diah  I  might  'a  gone  to  the  bugs 
arter  all. 

To  the  fishes,  more  like,  said  Obadiah ;  might,  a 
laid  in  a  stock  o'  kew-leather  'mong  the  eels,  haw, 
haw  I 

That  air  plaguy  split-wood's  none  o'  the  softest,  I 
tell  ye,  for  a  feller  to  dive  inter,  both  gwyin'  different 
ways,  and  both  in  a  dreadful  hurry. 

Here  a  pocket-book  was  put  into  his  hand,  as  it  lay 
over  his  brother's  knee. 

Hullo!  what's  this  'ere? — turning  it  over,  and 
shifting  it  three  or  four  times  from  one  hand  to  the 
other. 

It  is  thine,  whispered  a  Voice  at  my  elbow ;  it  be 
longs  to  thee. 

B'longs  to  me  !  no  sich  a  thing  ;  wunt  own  it  nor 
touch  to;  never  seed  it  afore — who  are  you  makin* 
mouths  at  ? 

A  person    here  stepped   forward,  who  had   been,; 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.   &C.  125 

making  signs  for  a  long  time  at  Amos,  and  whispered 
something  in  his  ear,  at  which  his  countenance  bright 
ened  up,  and  rolling  over  and  supporting  himself  on 
his  elbows,  he  opened  the  pocket-book,  and  pulling 
forth  a  quantity  of  bank-notes,  which  lay  smoothly 
spread  out  between  two-folds  of  worn  parchment;  and 
puckering  up  his  mouth  and  clenching  his  teeth  as  if  to 
avoid  betraying  his  inward  joy,  he  proceeded  to  count 
the  money,  dollar  by  dollar,  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to 
be  heard  by  all  the  bystanders,  while  Obadiah  stood 
watching  him,  with  a  look  of  perplexity,  which  gradu 
ally  gave  way  to  another,  more  resembling  anxiety, 
and  then  to  another  of  downright  shame.  His  lip 
quivered — his  cheek  changed  color — and  if  I  was  not 
greatly  deceived,  there  was  a  drop  of  scalding  water 
in  his  eye. 

But  Amos  heeded  him  not,  and  having  finished  the 
count,  he  lifted  himself  up,  announced  the  sum  total 
to  be  two  hundred  and  sixty  odd  dollars,  Filadelphy 
and  Baltimore  money,  adding — not  worth  so  much  as 
Boston  money,  by  twenty-five  per  cent  though  ;  and 
then,  after  wiping  his  hands,  he  proceeded  to  lay  it  all 
back  again  into  the  parchment  wrapper,  smoothing  it 
down  with  extraordinary  care,  drew  forth  a  piece  of 
red  tape  from  his  pocket,  along  with  a  handful  of 
snarled  twine,  leather-straps,  waxed-ends,  a  gimlet  and 
spare  screws — measured  it — snjpped  off  a  piece  of 
the  proper  length  with  a  single  snap  ofxhis  large 
glistening  teeth — tied  up  the  parcel  *.vith  great  sobriety 
and  deliberation,  and  then  to  our  amazement,  reached 
it  back  to]the  person  who  bad  been  whispering  to  him, 
without  saying  a  word  more. 

Whereupon  Obadiah  pressed  forward  and  clenchinjr 
L2 


126  THE   1WHVN    EASTER8,    &C.    &C. 

him  by  the  hand,  without  speaking,  though  he  blush 
ed  more  than  ever,  and  his  handsome  eyes  looked: 
handsomer  than  ever,  burst  forth  into  an  uncontrolable 
fit  of  laughter ;  and  then  stopped  suddenly — looked 
silly — and  went  away,  as  if  ashamed  of  being  so 
happy,  or  of  betraying  so  much  of  his  real  nature  even 
to  a  brother." 

And  why  not  keep  it  Mend  Amos?  whispered  the" 
old  quaker,  who  had  stolen  up  to  us  unperceived,  and 
was  trying  to  expostulate  with  him,  so  as  not  to  be1 
heard  by  others. 

No,  no;  thank  ye  as  much  as  if  I  did — no  'casion. 

Do  take  it — do  ;  thee'll  oblige  me  greatly,  and  her 
mother  also.  It  is  but  a  trifle  from  her  abundance. 

May  be  so,  but  between  you  an-'  me  an'  the  post, 
neighbor,  that  aint  the  way  I  git  my  livin'. 

I  dare  say  not,  continued  the  old  man,  his  eyes  fill 
ing  with  tears  of  joy  and  thankfulness  ;  but  thee  has 
'most  spoiled  thy  clothes,  and  hurt  theeself  grievously,, 
an'  I  have  a  right,  as  thee  says,  to  indemnify  thee  ac 
cording  to  law. 

Not  by  a  jug-full  ;  cant  obleege  me  at  law,  frind. 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

Well,  then,  if  its  all  the  same  to  you  frind  Leach,  or 
frind  Abraham — I  dont  know  what  your  Pheladelphy 
fashion  is,  but  we  say  frind  so  and  so,  in  our  parts — 
I  aint  dreadful  paiticular-ye  see  about  my  clothes; 
never  was  good  for  much,  all  I  had  on  wasn't  worth 
a  five-dollar  bill  •,  and  as  for  my  hurts,  why  man  alive,* 
we  dont  mind  sich  sort  o'  things  where  I  com  from,- 
two  jumps  of  a  rattle-snek — ben  through  a, row  o' 
griss-mills  afore  now,  arter  ah'  ole  hat  I  dropped  ft 
fishin' ;  so  yer  see  I  shan't  take  yer  money  nor  touch 


TlTfi    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &Ci 

to;  but  I  say — you — mister,  (turning  to  me  as  he 
finished)  brother  'Diah'll  finish  the  trade  with  you  for 
that  air  watch  o'  yourn,  about  the  slickest,  if  you'll 
give  him  another  chance,  while  my  clothes  are  a  dryin'. 

The  good  old  man  smiled — how  could  he  help  it  ? — 
at  the  perfect  seriousness  of  the  proposal,  and  patting 
him  on  the  shoulder,  invited  him  to  go  below  and  have 
a  trade  with  him  for  his  watch,  pulling  out  a  heavy 
old-fashioned  affair  of  his  own,  as  he  spoke. 

That  will  I ;  cried  Amos — and  then  stopping  and 
struggling  with  himself,  he  added  ;  no  no  thank  ye— 
taint  in  my  line  to  make-believe  swap  ;  I  can  see 
through  you — (good  naturedly) — you  mean  to  be  too 
much  for  Amos  O.  P.  Fail-field. 

But  Obadiah  was  not  willing  to  let  slip  so  fine  a 
chance,  and  when  I  next  saw  him,  he  was  seated  at 
one  of  the  side-benches  beloAV,  for  a  regular  swap, 
without  caring  a  fig  for  the  evident  displeasure  of  his 
brother,  or  thinking  of  any  thing  else  on  earth,  I  am 
sure ;  the  old  qaaker  trying  to  give  boot  for  the  bull- 
eyed  warming-pan  with  a  pewter-face,  and  the  other 
trying  to  swap  it  into  him — fairly — in  the  way  of 
business. 

It  was  dark  now,  and  we  were  making  our  way  to* 
ward  Baltimore  smoothly  enough  I  thought ;  nor  did 
I  observe,  till  we  had  come  together  about  the  tables 
below,  that  Gage  and  Middleton  were  no  longer  on  the 
same  terms  they  had  been  at  first ;  each  appearing  to 
to  hold  himself  apart  and  aloof  from  the  other  ;  and 
from  the  Tennessee  youth,  who  appeared  to  believe 
that  t  Gage  could  not  have  prevented  Middle- 
ton  from  going  overboard,  if  the  latter  had  been  as 
much  in  earnest  as  he  pretendedr  I  began  to  fear  that 


128  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    <fcc.    &C. 

mischief  was  brewing,  and  resolved  in  my  own  mind  to 
to  watch  the  parties  and  prevent  them  at  all  hazards. 
For  myself,  I  was  satisfied  that  Gage  had  saved  Mid- 
dleton's  life  by  his  violence,  and  that  nothing  but  a 
fair  opportunity  for  explanation  was  needed,  to  satisfy 
both  of  the  fact.  So,  instead  of  going  to  sleep  as  most 
of  the  passengers  did,  I  kept  my  position  at  the  table, 
where  two  strangers  were  engaged  in  a  game  of 
checkers — Middleton  sitting  afar  off,  with  his  hat 
pulled  over  his  eyes,  and  his  arms  folded  on  his  chest. 
I  longed  to  speak  to  him,  but  was  afraid.  On  casting 
round  my  eyes  for  Gage,  I  found  him  asleep  on  a 
settee, his  countenance  turned  away  fronj  the  light,  and 
breathing  as  freely  as  heart  could  desire.  Of  course 
there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  dealing  with  him» 
Your  true  Yankee  is  always  reasonable — always — • 
even  at  the  moment  of  unsheathing  the  sword,  or 
pulling  a  hair-trigger. 

Near  me,  with  their  ponderous  legs  outstretched 
over  the  superb  furniture,  half-asleep  and  half-awake, 
were  Amos  and  Obadiah,  and  five  or  six  down-easters, 
dozing  by  fits  and  snoring  by  kirns.  Many  attempts 
were  made  at  conversation,  such  as  you  may  hear 
aboard  a  stage-coach  in  the  grey  c^Cthe  morning,  after 
a  night,  voyage  over  a  rough  rd'ad  in  miserable 
weather — lazy  questions,  lazily  put,  and  more  lazily 
answered — one  would  gape  to  see  them  in  a  newspa 
per — people  talking  to  theTiaselves,  and  then  waiting 
for  a  reply,  or  yawning  and  stretching  all  around,  one 
after  another. 

Yaw — aw — aw,  wonder  where  we  are  now  ?  says  one; 
how  far  be  we  says  a  second;  begins  to  be  rather  cold 
here,  mutters  a  third.  Very !  adds  a  fourth,  muffling 


THE  DOWN  EASTERS,  &c.  &c.  129 

himself  up  to  the  eyes.  The  next  moment  they  ar« 
all  growling  together,  and  all  in  the  same  key.  My 
watch  has  stopped  ;  if  it  taint  I'm  a  bigger  fool  than 
you  are.  Only  half-past  nine  !  'taint  posserble.  You 
dont  say  so — gettin'  to  be  rather  warm  here.  Very  ! 
I  say  steward !  how  far  is  it  to  where  we  put  up  to 
night  ?  Dont  know  'azacly  sir,  I'll  ax  the  cap'n.  See 
't  ye  do — aw,  aw,  aw  ! — hot  as  blazes  !  Very  !  Man 
re-appears,  saying  tis  better  than  two  hours  sail.  Bet 
ter  !  I  should  call  it  wuss  by  a  darnation-sight.  Yaw, 
aw,  aw  !  everlastin'  cold  weather  we  have  for  the  sea 
son.  Very  f  At  last  the  party  got  waked  up,  and 
the  following  conversation  took  place. 

But  we  have  two  Universities,  my  dear  sir,  said  the 
fat  stranger  who  had  been  taking  notes.  Have  ye 
tho'  1  Well,  I  should  like  to  know  what  they're  good 
for.  So  should  I,  muttered  Gage,  lifting  himself  up 
on  one  elbow  and  preparing  to  take  his  part  in  this, 
or  any  other  discussion  that  offered  a  fair  opportunity 
for  playing  with  both  sides  of  a  question — for  every 
body  knows  that  our  University  at  Harvard  is  the  first 
in  the  world — is'nt  it  gentlemen?  To  be  sure  it  is  ; 
whoever  denied  it  ?  answered  two  or  three  voices 
together.  Nobody — in  America.  Talk  of  libraries 
and  professorships,  and  oriental  literature  and  all 
that,  pho,  pho  !  as  a  body  may  say — 

Precisely  !  added  a  little  dapper  Bostonian.  You 
are  a  true  patriot  sir,  and  I  honor  you  for  your  impar 
tiality.  That,  (snapping  his  fingers  with  a  revolu 
tionary  flourish)  that !  for  your  German  Universities, 
a«d  your  Cambridge  and  Oxford  Universities  !  what 
do  they  know  about  the  improved  system  established 
nt,  old  Harvard  ?. 


130  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,   &C.    &C. 

Very  true  sir;  give  me  your  hand,  cried  Gage, 
Very  true  sir.  In  orthography,  arithmetic  and 
English  grammar.,  to  say  nothing  of  the  higher 
branches  of  mathematics,  we  have  a — 

Precisely . sir!  Here  bows  were  interchanged  all 
around,  followed  by  sundry  compliments  to  one  an 
other's  love  of  country,  and  freedom  from  prejudice, 
when  my  attention  was  called  to  another  quarter. 

What  a  strange  foreign  look  he  has  !  said  some 
body  at  another  table  ;  for  my  part,  I  believe  he  was 
just  as  much  in  earnest  when  he  tried  to  jump  over 
at  last — cant  be  a  native  American  surely. 

He  is  a  southerner  raised  in  the  north. 

You  dont  say  so  !  answered  a  third  voice. 

Of  the  best  blood  in  the  country  too,  I  can  tell  you 
that. 

Wai  if  ever  !  Why  judgin'  by  his  looks,  I'd  wager 
a  trifle  that  he  had  a  cross  o'  the  nigger  in  him. 

Hush,  for  God's  sake,  whispered  the  other,  turning 
with  a  look  of  alarm  toward  the  subject  of  their  con 
versation,  whose  breathing  grew  very  audible  a 
minute  or  two  afterwards,  though  we  thought  him 
asleep.  Such  a  remark  as  that  sir,  continued  the 
speaker,  would  cost  you  or  any  other  man  alive — 
more  than  you  would  like  to  pay. 

Wai,  if  there  aint  a  drop  or  nigger,  there  is  o' 
Ingunn  blood  in  him,  or  I  miss  my  guess — no  harm, 
in  that  I  hope  ? 

Sir  ! 1  entreat  you. 

Why  what's  the  matter  now  ! 

If  you  wish  to  leave  this  boat  alive,  take  my  advice 
and  avoid  such  remarks  before  the  Men  of  the  South. 

You  aint  serious  tho',  air  ye  ? 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,   <&C.    &C.  131 

But  I  am  serious.  I  look  upon  it  as  a  matter  of 
life  and  death. 

Fiddle  de  dee  ! — That  for  ye  men  o'  the  south,  I 
say ! 

And  are  the  men  of  the  south  ashamed  of  being 
thought  to  have  descended  from  the  original  pro 
prietors  of  the  new  world  ?  said  Gage,  speaking  in  a 
loud  clear  natural  voice — the  chiefs,  the  princes,  and 
the  kings  of  North- America !  Shame  on  them  if 
they  are  ! 

A  suppressed  breathing  made  me  look  up,  and  there 
stood  Middleton  directly  in  front  of  Gage,  his  under- 
lip  quivering,  and  his  large  luminous  eyes  all  afire 
with  inward  commotion. 

But  Gage  continued  with  the  same  steady  look  and 
firm  voice,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  as  he  finished  j 
and  after  some  few  remarks  of  a  general  nature  re 
specting  the  men  of  the  south,  wound  up  with  an 
eloquent  apostrophe  to  the  Indians — cutting,  as  with 
a  two-edged  sword  into  the  very  joints  and  marrow  of 
that  unholy  and  ungrateful  pride,  which  in  the  North 
as  well  as  in  the  South  (for  in  the  north  it  is  highly 
penal  for  whites  to  intermarry  with  Indians)  has  pro 
hibited  all  companionship,  other  than  that  of  master 
and  slave,  the  oppressor  and  the  oppressed,  between 
them. 

Middleton  was  evidently  disturbed,  and  the  Ten 
nessee  youth  drew  near,  hoping  I  dare  say,  and  be 
lieving  I  am  sure,  that  something  serious  would  grow 
^out  of  the  conversation  before  they  finished. 

And  now  Middleton,  said  Gage — my  dear  Middle- 
ton,  a  word  with  you  before  all  these  witnesses.  You 
want  a  quarrel  with  me 1  see  it  plainly. 


532  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Middleton  grew  paler  and  paler  every  moment,  and 
he  shook  all  over ;  but  the  wrath  of  his  black  eye 
was  not  so  deadly  as  before. 

Now,  continued  Gage,  the  plain  truth  is  that  you 
are  in  the  wrong ;  and  therefore  I  have  determined 
not  to  allow  you  to  quarrel  vit'i  me.  Nevertheless, 
for  treating  you  like  a  madman  (as  you  were)  I  beg 
your  pardon — for  saving  your  life  in  spite  of  your 
determination  to  throw  it  away,  I 

Here  a  most  unlucky  laugh,  badly-suppressed  from 
the  Tennessee  youth,  had  well  nigh  set  us  altogether 
by  the  ears  again  ;  but  Gage  favored  him  with  a  look 
of  reproof,  and  the  savage  was  turning  away,  with  a 
sort  of  good-natured  growl,  when,  happening  to  catch 
.the  eye  of  Middleton,  his  countenance  instantly 
changed  and  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  stature, 
and  stood  facing  him  and  waiting  for  Gage  to  finish. 

Yes  sir,  continued  Gage,  yet  more  deliberately — 
For  saving  your  life  in  spite  of  your  determination 
to  throw  it  away,  Gerard  Middleton,  I  am  ready,  if 
you  require  it,  and  before  all  these  witnesses,  to  beg 
your  pardon  heartily  and  humbly. 

That's  what  I  call  showin'  the  white-feather,  by 
Gawd  !  cried  the  Tennessee  boy,  turning  on  his  heel 
as  he  spoke. 

Middleton's  eyes  flashed  fire  ;  but  Gage  merely 
looked  up,  and  begging  him  not  to  interfere,  turned 
quietly  to  the  other  and  asked  him  what  he  meant  by 
the  remark,  and  whether  it  was  intended  for  him. 

What  do  I  mean,  stranger  ?  I  mean  jess  what  I 
say — You  are  showin'  the  white  feather ;  an'  you 
know  well  enough  what  that  means,  if  you  have  ever 
been  in  the  woods  an'  seen  the  whippoor-will  run 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  133 

away  with  her  tail-feathers  draggin'  after  her,  one 
each  side  o'  the  bunch,  as  white  as  the  driven  enow — 
that's  what  I  mean,  take  it  as  ye  like. 

By  all  \»-hich  I  am  to  understand  that  you  believe 
me  warning  in  courage  to  resent  insult,  or  to  punish 
insolence — in  plain  English,  that  I  am  what  bullies 
and  swaggerers  would  call  a  coward  ? 

What  do  you  mean  by  that  sir !  who  d'ye  call  a 
swaggerer. 

You  shall  know  in  a  moment,  said  Gage,  slowly 
rising  from  the  chair,  and  measuring  his  tall  handsome 
antagonist  with  an  eye  that  neither  shifted  nor  quailed, 
and  a  countenance  that  never  altered,  till  he  had 
finished.  You  believe  me  to  be  a  coward  then! 

I  do. 

And  you  would  insult  me,  nevertheless  ? 

I  would. 

What  think  you  of  your  own  courage  then  ?  Is  it 
not  the  courage  of  a  swaggerer,  to  insult  a  coward  ? 

For  a  moment  the  high-spirited  fellow  was  abashed  ; 
but  the  next,  observing  a  smile  or  a  sneer  about  the 
mouth  of  Middleton,  he  uttered  something — some 
thing,  I  know  not  what,  nor  could  1  ever  learn  that 
any  body  there  had  fully  understood  it ;  and  instantly, 
but  for  Gage,  who  grappled  with  the  Tennesseean 
and  threatened  to  call  captain  Trip,  th^y  would  have 
sprung  at  each  other's  throats  across  the  table.  Ai  it 
was,  they  were  instantly  separated,  a/id  withdrew  in 
a  portentous  silence  to  their  respective  berths. 

We  were  now  approaching  Baltimore.  The  outline 

of  the  city  was  already  visible   upon  the  clear  blue 

sky,   in   a   mass  of   huge   broken   shadow,    with   the 

cathedral  crowning  the  whole,  and  the  Washington- 

II 


134  THE    DOWN    EASTEUS,    &C.    &C. 

monument  upheaving  itself  into  the  unclouded  vault* 
like  the  wonders  you  see  on  your  approach  to  Rome, 
while  yet  afar  off;  and  I  had  begun  to  hope  that  we 
should  have  no  further  trouble,  when  happening  to 
turn  away  from  the  light,  I  had  a  view  of  Gage  in  a 
mirror  as  he  sat  with  his  back  toward  me,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life  I  felt  as  if  nothing  could  save  one 
fellow-creature  from  the  wrath  of  another — nothing. 
And  yethe  had  only  grown  a  little  more  serious  ;  and 
so  long  as  he  sat  with  his  back  toward  me,  talking 
pleasantly  with  the  other  passengers,  I  should  not 
have  suspected  from  his  voice  that  any  thing  was  the 
matter.  But  from  the  moment  I  saw  his  face  there, 
I  felt  alarmed — I  know  not  why — the  reader  must 
have  seen  such  a  face  to  understand  me— -alarmed 
for  the  safety  of  the  Tennesseean. 

Yet  as  I  have  said  before,  the  conversation  was 
cheerful  enough,  and  nobody  else,  not  even  captain 
Trip  himself,  appeared  to  think  seriously  of  the  tri 
fling  dispute  which  had  occurred. 

Again  I  found  myself  at  my  old  employment  of 
studying  character  and  hoarding  up  phraseology. 
He'll  do  it  any  day  o'  the  week,  said  a  man  at  my 
elbow,  let  alone  Saturdays — of  course  the  speaker 
was  a  Marylander  of  Irish  parentage.  What  a  heap 
a  folks  there  w<*s  to  be  sure,  said  another — a  Virginian 
of  course— a  mighty  little  man  of  his  age,  said  a 
third — a  Carolinian.  I  shot  the  <ioor,  an'  went  an'  sot 
down,  said  a  fourth.  rra  timl  some;  I  aint  tired 
any,  added  a  fifth  and  sixth.  <  a,».  that  up,  an'  empt 
it;  I  expect  he  was  fi-njost  tired  m  death — all  Yan 
kees.  No  marm  I  have  not — \val  I  \\.,nt  yer  to,  ditto, 
ditto.  Rcsky»  jumpy,  skerse,  a  d  -i  -complected 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  135 

man  ;  I  should  admire  to  see  you  do  it :  He  said  how 
he  ceuld  handle  me,  and  told  him  he  might  have  a 
chance  to  try  ;  use  your  thinkers  :  I  vum  if  I  would — 
ditto,  ditto,  ditto.  Good  deal  o'  land  about  here ; 
niee  putty  stars,  but  lord  you,  as  the  gal  said  to  her 
feller,  if  you  could  only  see  the  bunch  thats  right  over 
our  front  door.  There  now  !  its  al1  gut  to  be  strained 
over  agin  !  as  the  old  woman  said,  ,*;  |MM«BM'4MB|* 

~^^^m£*  4  '  1^^^ 

^jrcLjggllJQfy, .  Thats  right  down  Ujrly  o'  you.  Trn 
rather  porely  now.  See  any  thing  partiklar  in  that 
feller  there  ? — makes  poetry  himself  sabbadays,  made 
more  poetry  an'  you  could  shake  a  stick  at ;  never 
thought  o'  trying  his  hand  at  it  nyther,  till  arter  he 
failed  in  the  timber-trade.  You  belong  to  Poland? 
No,  to  Minot — you  aint  acquainted  with  a  man  by  the 
name  o'  Dodge,  Joel  Dodge,  air  ye  ? — all  Yankees  of 
one  sort  or  another. 

Thus  far  had  I  proceeded,  taking  down  every  re 
markable  phrase  that  met  my  ear,  upon  the  blank  leaf 
of  a  new  novel,  which  lay  before  me — a  page  that  I 
preserved  for  many  years,  and  have  now  most  faithfully 
copied,  when  a  passenger  who  came  below  for  his 
umbrella  and  great  coat,  informed  us  we  should  reach 
the  wharf  in  a  few  minutes.  I  ran  up  on  deck  and 
getting  my  luggage  together,  was  standing  over  it  and 
listening  to  the  noise  of  the  steam,  as  it  bellowed  and 
roared  through  the  huge  cylinder,  when  the  boat 
reached  the  wharf,  and  the  next  moment,  dark  as  it 
was,  two  mortal  enemies  found  each  other  out,  as  by 
the  instinct  of  unappeasable  hate,  and  before  a  soul 
could  interfere,  a  splash  was  heard  in  the  deep  still 
water,  accompanied  by  a  loud  half-smothered  cry, 
which  made  us  all  rush  to  the  spot  whence  it  pro- 


136  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &.C. 

ceeded.     A  man  was  over-board.     We  drew  him  in. 
He  wa?  pale,  and  speechless,  and  bloody. 

Gracious  God  sir,  cried  I,  going  up  to  Middleton, 
who  stood  near  the  edge  of  the  water,  with  the  light 
of  a  dozen  lamps  streaming  upon-  his  face — his  foot 
plante 1 — his  hat  off — his>  collar  open,  his  black  hair 
flying  loose  in  the  wind,  and  his  eye  fixed  with  a 
dread  1  ui  .pxprag  ifoa  of  unrelenting  wrath  upon  the 
rescued  man,  who  lay  stretched  out  }ifc£$t&jtd,  body 
upon  the  wharf,  wi;h  a  cloak  thrown  over  hiirTlfnu  a 
portmanteau  under  his  head — Gracious  God  sir,  what 
have  you  done! 

I  have  dirked  him,  was  the  reply. 
I  shuddered  ;  for  the  spoke  with  a  cheerful  voice, 
and  I  co:ild  have  sworn  that  he  smiled;  for  his  black 
joyful    eyes  were   shining   with  a  newer  and  more 
savage  lustre. 

We  parted  before  I  knew  the  whole  truth;  but  not 
before  I  saw  him  in  custody,  and  heard  him  say  with 
a  light  cheerful  air — pho,  pho,  rny  dear  Gage,  we  are 
even  now.     What  are  you  afraid  of?  the  poor  fellow 
may   thank  his   stars   that  he   had   me  to  deal  with, 
instead  of  you — there's  a  chance  for  him  now. 
Gerard  Middleton. 
Pho,  pho,  I  know  what  you  mean  to  say. 

If  that  man  should  not  recover 

Why  then  he'll  be  cured  of  gouging,  that's  all,  put 
ting  his  hand  to  his  foreheatl-as  he  spoke,  and  showing 
how  narrow  had  been  his  ovvn  escape  from  the  Joss 
of   an    eye — the   hair    was   literally   torn    from    his 
temples — and  there  was  the  mark  of  a  thumb-nail. 
Man  !  man  !  cried  Gage,  I  wonder  at  you. 
I  told  him  what  I  would  do,  if  he  did'nt  release  ma 
instantly — and  I  did  it — and  there  he  lies  I 


THE    DOWX    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  137 

God  forgive  you,  said  I ;  farewell  ! 
Farewell  sir. 

And  here  we  parted — He  for  a  prison  or  a  scaffold, 
and  I  for  the  south. 


H2 


CHAPTER    X. 

AFTER  this,  my  curiosity  led  me  far  to  the  south, 
where  I  was  a  long  while  detained.  On  my  return 
through  Baltimore,  I  made  some  enquiries  about  Mid- 

dleton,  the  result  of  which  was  very  satisfactory  to  mer 

•  ^Htf 

for  I  had  begun  to  feel  a  deep  solicitude  concerning 
him.  It  appeared  on  trial  that  his  huge  adversary  drew 
a  knife,  as  he  stepped  upon  the  wharf  where  the  blow 
was  given,  that  he  sprung  atMiddleton  and'seized  him 
by  the  throat,  apparently  for  the  purposes  of  throwing 
him  into  the  river,  that  he  twisted  his  right  hand  into 
his  hair,  and  that  something  was  said  by  one  or  both 
about  gouging,  the  very  instant  before  the  cry,  which 
was  followed  by  the  plunge  overboard.  Middleton 
was  therefore  set  free,  though  the  man  had  not  recov 
ered,  and  it  was  probable  never  would  recover.  I  had 
the  further  satisfaction  of  hearing  that  he  forgave  Mid 
dleton,  and  that  he  spoke  of  the  affair  to  the  judges  of 
the  court  in  such  a  way  as  to  excite  the  admiration  of 
all  who  heard  him.  The  public  sympathy  when  I  ar 
rived  at  Baltimore  was  divided  between  the  two;  every 
body  spoke  well  of  the  Tennessean,  of  his  fortitude, 
courage  and  magnanimity  ;  and  every  body  spoke  well 
of  Middleton,  who  might  have  escaped  a  trial  if  he 
would  ;  but  he  gave  himself  up  after  an  accidental 
rescue,  and  was  only  discharged  in  due  course  of  law. 
The  more  I  knew  of  this  man — the  more  I  heard  of 
his  behavior  from  the  day  that  I  saw  him  arrested,  in 
a  matter  of  life  and  death,  up  to  the  hour  of  his  ac- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  139 

quittal  by  a  jury,  the  more  anxious  I  grew  about  him. 
He  appeared  to  me  to  be  made  for  superior  things — • 
for  great  things — and  to  have  need  of  such  advice 
and  such  help  as  a  man  a  few  years  older  than  him 
self  might  give,  were  he  invested  with  the  authority  of 
an  elder  brother.  I  would  have  done  much  for  him, 
for  he  appeared  capable  of  doing  much  for  the  world. 
But  Avhither  had  he  gone  ?  where  should  I  seek  him, 
or  that  strange  fellow  that  was  with  him,  Gage?  No 
body  could  tell  me,  though  I  pursued  the  enquiry  for 
a  long  while. 

At  last  however,  just  when  I  had  given  up  all  idea 
of  ever  seeing  either  of  the  two  again,  chance  threw 
us  together  in  a  very  odd  way.  I  was  at  New  York 
waiting  the  arrival  of  a  ship,  in  which  I  intended  to  go 
on  a  voyage  to  the  South-Sea.  She  was  ho  irly  ex 
pected,  and  I  was  therefore  obliged  to  hold  myself  in 
readiness,  night  and  day  ;  and  not  knowing  what  else 
to  do  in  such  a  state,  I  contrived  to  waste  as  much  of 
my  time  as  I  could  in  the  society  of  beautiful  women, 
who  make  up  a  fifth  part  of  the  population  of  New- 
York,  and  among  others,  in  that  of  a  widow — a  mag- 
nificient  creature — a  lady  too,  if  there  was  ever  a  thing 
so  delightful  or  so  artificial  on  that  side  of  the  sea, 
with  a  set-off  in  the  shape  of  two  great  sprawling 
daughters.  It  may  be  that  I  was  in  love  with  her; 
and  it  may  be — I  would  not  swear  that  I  was  not — in 
love  with  all  three  at  the  same  time,  for  I  missed  the 
ship  after  all,  and  had  two  or  three  narrow  escapes  of 
one  sort  and  another. 

She  was  youthful  at  the  avowed  age  of  -.-.iirty-one 
or  two,  in  a  part  of  the  country  where  women  at  the 
age  of  two  score  generally  contrive  to  look  as  if  they 


140  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    <fcc. 

had  never  been  less  than  fifty.  She  was  a  sort  of 
epicure — an  epicure  in  every  thing — I  dare  not  say 
voluptuary,  that  being  a  dis-logistic  word.  She 
breathed  an  atmosphere  that  was  always  ready  to 
kindle  about  her ;  and  she  passed  her  life  in  touching 
and  lasting  for  experiment  sake,  whatever  it  was  not 
very  safe  either  to  touch  or  taste.  I  never  saw  a 
woman  so  followed  in  America,  though  she  was  not 
over  wealthy  ;  but  then  the  was  beautiful,  the  leader 
of  New-York  fashion,  rather  witty  and  sufficiently 
pious  for  the  period  I  speak  of.  She  appeared  to  me 
to  have  made  up  her  mind — God  forgive  her — to  en 
joy  life  as  much  as  it  is  possible  for  a  woman  to  enjoy 
it,  where  men  are  legislators  for  every  body.  She 
knew  that  spies  were  set  on  every  side  of  her  path  ; 
she  knew  that  there  is  no  out-living  nor  escaping  re 
proach,  whether  it  be  deserved  or  not,  if  a  woman  step 
over  the  invisible  boundary  that  we  have  made  for  her; 
and  yet,  she  was  eternally  trespassing  where  no  other 
female  would  have  the  courage  to  look — trespassing 
with  one  foot,  while  the  other  was  anchored  in  safety  ; 
peeping  into  prohibited  places ;  or  standing  a-tip- 
toe  and  looking  over  the  barrier,  and  trembling  and 
thrilling  afar  off. 

She  delighted  in  what  are  called  innocent  pleasant 
ries,  in  pretty  little  misunderstandings,  in  half- whisper 
ed,  half-acted  inuendoes,  though  she  would  look  all 
the  time  as  if  she  had  no-mischief  in  her  heart,  and 
speak  as  if  butter  wouldn't  melt  in  her  mouth  ;  and 
she  had  a  way — it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  de 
scribe  it-1* -a  way  that  no  young  woman  eVer  had,  a 
way  that  few  married  women  ever  had  (while  they 
were  married)  of  entrapping  hearts  with,  a,  snare  that 


THE    DOWN    EAST2RS,    &C.    &C.  141 

every  body  could  see;  now  by  flirting  with  a  ribbon 
that  shivered  with  every  breath  she  drew,  or  lay  as  if 
it  were  alive  upon  her  superb  shoulder ;  now  by 
gathering  up  her  exuberant  hair ;  now  by  permitting 
a  bird  to  play  with  her  shut  lips,  or  to  plunge  his  beak 
into  a  mouth  like  a  wet  rose-bud;  now  by  coquetting 
with  a  child  or  a  guitar  ;  now  by  toying  with  a  watch  in 
her  bosom  set  with  jewels,  or  a  miniature,  a  chain,  or 
a  necklace,  the  sparkle  of  which  would  be  sure  to  at 
tract  the  eye ;  now  by  pulling  up  her  slipper — half- 
sitting,  half-lounging  the  while,  upon  a  deep  couch 
covered  with  loose  drapery. 

I  had  seen  her  in  my  youth,  I  knew  her  when  the 
war  of  1812  broke  out,  and  I  knew  her  at  the  close  of 
that  war,  when  it  began  to  be  considered  a  very  pro 
per  thing  for  people  to  go  to  church  twice  a  day — rain 
or  shine — provided  they  were  not  able  to  keep  a  car 
riage.  I  knew  her  at  a  period  when  fire  and  earth 
quake  had  made  it  rather  fashionable  to  pray — and 
when  very  respectable  and  very  genteel  people,  were 
known  to  pray — and  when  the  most  beautiful  women 
of  New-York  were  to  be  seen  at  church,  though  Broad 
way,  the  Battery,  and  both  rivers  were  open  at  the 
time  ;  and  she  appeared  to  me  to  grow  younger  and 
younger  every  year. 

At  the  period  I  speak  of,  she  had  become  rather  de 
vout;  every  body  spoke  of  her  piety,  and  I  had  observ 
ed  that  there  was  a  stir  among  the  British  officers,  who 
happened  to  be  there  on  parole  at  the  same  time — 
hardly  one  of  them  ever  missing  the  church  she  fre 
quented,  when  it  was  understood  that  she  was  to  be 
there,  and  very  few  the  day  or  the  hour,  as  they  para 
ded  up  and  down  before  their  favorite  places  of  wor« 


142  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

ship,  if  they  saw  her  carriage  roll  by ;  many  of  them 
showing  the  most  exemplary  moderation,  forbearance 
and  self-denial,  when  the  weather  would  not  allow  them 
to  break  out  in  their  holiday-uniforms,  by  going  to 
church,  nevertheless,  with  any  thing  to  cover  them  till 
they  were  faily  housed,  Avhen  the  loudness  and  solem 
nity  of  their  responses  and  the  clangor  of  their  kneel 
ing,  were  enough  to  do  your  heart  good.  Take  it  alto 
gether,  it  was  a  very  refreshing  season — as  we  say 
there  ;  and  I  was  repeatedly  -assured  by  Mrs.  Amory 
the  fair  widow,  that  she  had  seen  a  young  naval  officer, 
who  sat  behind  her  pew,  so  wrought  upon  by  the  elo 
quence  of  Dr.  Mason,  that  he  was  obliged  to  cover  his 
face  with  his  hands — very  pretty  4iands  they  were  too* 
and  remain  with  his  head  in  a  corner  till  the  Congre 
gation  -were  set  free  ;  and  that  she  saw  another,  a  mili 
tary  man  (with  a  new  coat  covered  with  new  bullion, 
a  new  hat,  and  no  umbrella)  betray  a  very  becoming 
sense  of  his  awful  situation,  one  day  when  it  sudden 
ly  clouded  overhead,  as  they  come  out  of  church  to 
gether,  now  by  turning  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  with  a 
look  almost  of  despair,  and  now  by  muttering  a  few 
broken  sentences,  which  appeared  to  be  heaved  up 
from  the  very  bottom  of  his  heart.  I  >yas  futhermore 
assured  by  a  clergyman  that  he  had  never  known  such 
a  revival  at  New-York — as  that  which  took  place 
while  the  British  were  thundering  at  her  gates  ;  but 
then  he  acknowledged  that  soon  after  the  war  broke 
out,  there  was  a  fearful  awakening  at  the  north  ;  and 
I  heard  from  another  quarter  that  the  land  shook,  that' 
armies  were  seen  parading  over  the  sky,  and  great 
ships  riding  at  anchor  in  the  hollow  of  the  mountains, 
where  the  fog  was  like  a  sea,  and  the  noise  of  the 
wind  like  the  roar  of  the  sea. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  143 

It  is  a  time  of  war,  said  another,  and  if  a  time  of 
war  will  not  make  people  serious  and  regular  in  their 
attendance  at  church — provided  they  have  new  clothes, 
no  other  place  to  go  to,  and  nothing  else  to  do,  why 
the  devil  is  in  it.  Oh  !  for  shame  !  cried  the  beautiful 
widow,  adjusting  a  magnificent  shawl,  and  stepping 
away  so  as  to  show  the  whole  sweep  of  her  person — 
you  are  too  severe.  Am  I  ? 

Yes. — You  would  not  be  at  church  this  very  day, 
but  for  the  shawl  you  received  last  night  from  India. 

She  was  already  on  her  way  up  the  broad -aisle, 
with  every  eye  upon  her ;  and  every  pulse  fluttering 
at  the  sight  of  her  cashmere. 

In  spite  of  all  we  say  in  America  about  the  patrici 
ans  of  Europe,  and   their  foolish  pride  of  birth,  we 
are  not  without  our  patricians  here — people  of  yester 
day  or  the  day  before,  who  having  had  grandfathers 
of  their  own,  are  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  peo 
ple  of  to-day.     When  I  first  knew  the  fair  widow,  she 
was  maneuvering  for  a  place  among  the  former;  when 
we  parted  she  was  maneuvering  still,  but  I  fear  with 
little  or  no  prospect  of  success,  for  some  how  or 
other,  it  had  come   to  be  known  that  her  father  was 
nobody — neither  a  lawyer  nor  a  merchant,  not  even 
a  retail-merchant — nothing  but  a  tailor.     Of  course 
the  widow,  but  for  the  carriage  and  pair  that  she  still 
continued   to  keep,  her   beauty,  and  her   supposed 
wealth,  which  gave  her  the  lead  for  a  time  in  the  little 
world  of  high  fashion   at   New-York,  would   never 
have   been   situated  in  what  is   called  good-society 
there — meaning  the  society  of  the  few  that  live  with 
out  work,  or  by  a  profession,    or   by  merchandize 
imported  by  the  cargo,   to  say  nothing  of  the  best 


144  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

society  there,  the  ancient  nobility  of  America,  whose 
fathers  happen  to  have  died  where,  if  history  be  true, 
their  fathers  happened  to  live. 

It  cannot  be  denied  however  that  so  long  as  the 
widow  was  able  to  sport  her  cashmeres  and  her 
carriage,  not  a  few  of  the  second  class  of  republican 
nobility,  were  vastly  condescending  to  her  at  church, 
where  it  is  understood  that  a  whisper,  a  bow,  or  a 
shake  of  the  hand,  is  to  go  for  nothing  if  it  be  not 
authenticated  elsewhere. 

Why  do  you  live  such  a  life?  said  I  to  her  one  day, 
as  we  sat  together  in  the  deep  couch  I  spoke  of,  she 
with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fire,  a  >d  I  studying  the 
changes  that  I  saw  in  her  face — Why  give  people 
such  power  over  you  ? 

Why  ! — her  lip  quivered,  a  shadow  that  I  had  never 
seen  there  before,  played  about  her  mouth,  and  her 
forehead  shook  in  the  fire  light.  Because  I  am  a 
mother — 

Well,  and  what  if  you  are — 

A  mother ;  and  every  body  knows  that  the  first 
duty  of  a  mother  is  to  be,  when  her  daughters  are 
old  enough  to  appear  in  the  world — what  I  never 
shall  be — heigho  ! 

And  what  is  that  ? 

An  old  woman — my  dear  Mr.  Fox. 

I  was  very  much  struck  by  the  tone  of  voice,  in 
which  these  few  words  wei*e-  uttered.  They  appeared 
to  issue  from  the  very  bottom  of  her  heart. 

She  continued — I  am  a  widow. 

Your  own  fault,  if  you  are  a  widow  long,  said  I. 

A  widow,  and  past  the  age,  when,  whatever  we  do 
is  looked  upon  with  charity  ;  a  mother — and — and — 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  145 

Her  eyes  filled 

With  two  grown-up  daughters;  a  widow,  with  a 
feeling  which,  whatever  other  people  may  say,  she 
knows  to  be  the  feeling  that  agitated  her  in  youth, 
always  at  work  in  her  heart — heigho !  I  wish  I  was 
in  my  grave — heigho  ! 

I  tried  to  sooth  her.  You  in  your  grave  !  said  I — 
You!  why  what  would  you  do  there  pray? 

I  might  sleep — Mr.  Fox. 

Query 

Heigho  ! 

Nonsense.  You  have  it  in  your  power  to  be  happy, 
and  to  make  others  happy ;  and  yet  you  are  wicked 
enough  to  wish  yourself  where — between  ourselves 
now,  my  dear  madam — I  doubt  if  you  would  have  the 
same  power  that  you  enjoy  here. 

If  I  had  never  been  married  at  all,  I — I  beg  your 
pardon — I — I  do  wish  you  would  go  for  Kate. 

Certainly,  said  I,  she's  a  dear  good  girl. 

She  looked  at  me — Well,  why  dont  you  go  ? 

Lord  bless  you,  said  I,  without  moving  a  step,  aint 
I  going  as  fast  as  I  can? 

Very  well — turning  away  her  head,  as  if  she 
did  not  hear  me,  and  looking  into  the  fire  with  a 
faint  smile — And  everybody  knows  that  the  chief  duty 
of  a  mother  is  to  maintain  her  daughters,  from  the 
day  they  are  old  enough,  or  large  enough — Kate  is 
very  tall  of  her  age — dont  you  think  so  ? — at  every 
sacrifice — and  both  much  younger  than  you  would 
suppose — hey  ? 

I  bowed. 

Keep  them  she  must,  at  every  sacrifice — and  at 
every  humiliation  to  herself,  in  just  exactly  that  rank 
F 


146  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &,C.    &C. 

of  society,  where  they  have  no   clear,  indisputable 
right  to  b$ 

Very  true  ;  what  else  can  she  be  good  fofr  ? 

What!  else  ? 

After  a  certain  age,  I  mean. 

Of  course — with  a  smile — heigho  ! 

Whether  she  be  married  or  a  widow,  old  or  young, 

beautiful  as  the  day — or or — 

She  drew  a  long  breath. 
Or  ugly  as  the  witch  of  Endor. 
Very  true,  my  dear  friend — where  they  must  live 
in  a  state  of  warfare  with  everybody  that  comes  in 
their  way. 

In  bad  humor  with  everybody — 
And  with  themselves  into  the  bargain  ;  for  nobody 
knows  how  to  behave  to  them  in  society,  whether  as 
equals,  or  humble  companions,  or  as  people  having  as 
good    a  right    as    their   neighbours,  to  make  them 
selves  uncomfortable  and  ridiculous  in  a  certain  way. 
And  where  everybody  who,  crosses  their  path  will 
be  sure  to  wonder  at  them — said  I. 
True,  true. 

For  that  proves  that  they  are  in  a  rank  of  society, 
where,   but   for    intrigue,  electioneering,    and   sheer 
impudence,  they  never  would  be. 
Very  true. 

In  this  comfortable  situation,  they  grow  up,  their 
hearts  brimful  of  bitterness  and  fear,  and  sickly  hope  ; 
forever  slipping  back  in  their  up-hill  ascent,  and  for 
ever  leaning  forward. 

Very  true — and  elbowing  the  less  happy  or  the  less 
ambitious  at  every  step,  under  pretence  of  keeping 
their  places 


THE   DOWN    EASTKRS,    &.C.    &C.  147 

Bowing  their  way  up,  till  they  get  a  head  or  a  toe 
into  the  group  just  above  them,  shouldering  them 
aside  at  the  next  breath,  and  then  turning  their  backs 
upon  them,  through  every  successive  stage  of  society ; 
all  whom  they  have  out-stripped  rejoicing  in  every 
humiliation  they  meet  with,  and  all  whom  they  ap 
proach  wondering  aloud  at  their  audacity  ;  but  all — 
every  where — above,  below,  and  about  their  path, 
uniting  together  against  them,  forever  on  the  watch 
to  discover  their  faults,  and  forever  disposed  to 
magnify  their  failures,  and  rejoice  over  their  humili 
ations. 

Ah  my  dear  sir,  I  feel  the  truth  of  what  you  say— 
every  word  is  true. 

Then  why  persevere  in  that  path  ?  Believe  me 
madam — it  is  not  the  way  to  respectability,  whatever 
you  may  suppose.  Your  children  are  made  unhappy 
to  no  purpose ;  they  will  not  be  suffered  to  remain 
where  you  have  tried  to  place  them. 

I  believe  you  ;  but  what  am  I  to  do  ? 

Give  up  the  society  of  people  you  do  not  care  for. 

Ah  !  you  know  not  how  much  you  ask ! 

And  the  society  of  those  who  do  not  care  for  you. 

Oh  Lord  !  what  would  become  of  me  ? 

You  would  be  happier  than  ever 

Query,  as  you  say  ;  I  cannot  bear  solitude — heigho  I 

Solitude ! 

Yes ;  your  plan  would  leave  me — I  very  much 
fear — in  a  deplorable  state. 

How  so  ? 

Altogether  alone.  Here  she  heaved  a  sigh  that 
went  to  my  heart,  and  her  eyes  fell,  and  her  little 
*nowy  hand  slipped  away  from  the  place  on  which  it 


148  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    <fec.    <fcc. 

rested,  and   fell  upon  the  crimson  drapery   of  th* 
couch,  like  a  live  bird  escaped  from  a  snare. 

I  wish  you  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  see  this* 
matter  as  I  do,  said  I,  slipping  my  hand  after  hers  in 
such  a  way  as  to  alarm  neither — You  might  be  very 
happy. 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  faint  smile. 

And  why  not,  pray  ? 

How  can  you  ask !  am  I  not  the  mother  of  two 
grown-up  girls? 

And  what  if  you  are  ? 

And  am  I  not  younger  at  the  heart,  this  very  day, 
than  either  of  the  two,  my  dear  friend  ? 

Upon  my  word,  I  believe  you  are. 

Still  young,  without  the  privileges  of  youth  ? 

I  could  have  wept  a  tear  or  two  here,  at  the 'very 
sound  of  her  roice. 

A  mother  of  women,  without  a  share  of  that  in 
sensibility  which  I  regard  as  their  highest  prerogative. 

I  understand  you — I  pity  you. 

Excuse  me,  I  cannot  bear  to  be  pitied — heigho. 
F    Pho,  pho — that  is  the  talk  of  your  every-day  novel- 
reader. 

But  I  am  very  seriou«r. 

Pho,  pho ;  cannot  bear  to  be  pitied !  you  !  why 
what  are  you  made  of?  There  is  not  a  creature  alive 
in  the  shape  of  woman,  ay,  or  of  man  either,  who  in 
saying  that,  would  say  the* .truth.  It  were  easier  to 
live  without  hope,  than  without  pity. 

To  say  all  in  a  word — /  am  a  widow. 

That's  true 

If  I  were  to  withdraw  from  society  at  my  age, 
what  would  people  say  I 


THE    DOWN    EA.STERS,    &C.    &C.  149 

Say !  That  you  were  a  thousand  times  wiser  than 
they  ever  thought  you. 

It  would  be  ascribed  to  the  jealousy  of  a  mother ; 
it  would  be  said  every  where  that  I  withdrew  to 
escape  the  mortification  of  being  rivaled,  or  it  may  be 
eclipsed  by  my  own  daughters.  Ah  my  dear  Mr.  Fox 
— do  you  know  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  your 
name — christian-name  I  mean — but  proceed. 

In  which  case,  they  would  be  thought  older  than 
they  are,  and  you,  therefore,  older  than  you  are ;  and 
you  might  be  obliged  to  go  into  your  grave  a  widow. 

I  mean  to  go  into  my  grave  a  widow. 

Really  ! 

Yes — heigho ! 

I  know  better. 

She  snatched  away  her  hand,  which  some  how  or 
other — I  never  knew  how — I  had  contrived  to  clasp, 
and  withdrew  her  foot  which  had  strayed  into  the 
middle  of  the  hearth-rug,  where  it  loitered  with  an 
expression  (feet  have  a  deal  of  expression,  love)  that 
well  might  give  me  the  heart-ache,  as  I  sat  by  her 
side. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

We  continued  our  conversation. 

You  go  to  church  twice  a  day  now. 

Now  !  I  have  done  so  for  a  whole  year. 

Ever  since  your  pulpit  was  furnished  with  a  tall, 
handsome,  unmarried  man,  of  high  family. 

Absurd ! 

So  pious  too — so  severe  of  speech  and  so  very 
devout,  always  in  the  way  of  a  prayer-meeting,  or  a 
lecture,  now. 

Why  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  no  great  aversion 
to  these  matters  now ;  we  see  very  good  society  at 
church 

The  truth  will  out!     You  have  no  dislike  to  the 
church,  nor  to  the  pious,  nor  to  praying  a  little  your 
self  in  a  private  way — when  there  are  no  cards  out, 
nor  much  risk  of  your  being  caught  by  the  ungodly ; 
nor  would  you  refuse  to  appear  at  a  public  conference, 
or  at  a  chapel  I  dare  say — if  you  were  supported  in 
the  measure  by  the  presence  of  good-society.     You 
are  perfectly  satisfied  urith  yourself,  you  care  not 
whither  you  go,  nor  what  you  do — so  long  as  you  are 
in  good-society.     You  hare  two  daughters  to  bring 
up,  and  being  yourself  neither  very  old  nor  very 
ugly,  you  would  endure  any  thing  to  preserve  their 

place  and  yours  in  good-society 

You  are  very  severe 

Then  what  I  say  must  be  very  true.     Would  you 
not — I  ask  you  as  I  would  have  you  ask  me — wo  u 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    <tc.  151 

you  not  wear  a  mob-cap,  or  say  thee  and  thou,  if  it 
were  the  fashion  ? 

To  be  sure  I  would — why  not  ?  I  see  no  harm  in 
a  mob-cap,  nor  in  saying  thee  and  thou;  if  other 
people  do. 

Other  people  of  high  fashion.  You  would  undergo 
a  sociable  private  awakening  I  dare  say,  or  a  snug 
revival  at  your  own  house,  if  it  were  required  of  you  ? 

To  be  sure  I  would 

Ay,  or  sing  through  the  nose 

"  I'll  take  my  staff  and  travel  on 

"  The  way  that  Zion's  pilgrim's  gone, 

with  every  other  tune  of  the  conventicle,  to  the 
guitar,  the  harp,  or  the  piano,  if  you  were  kept  in 
countenance  by  what  you  call  good-society?  You 
go  to  the  house  of  the  Lord  every  sabbath-day,  as 
you  call  it,  Mrs.  Amory,  not  because  you  care  a  fig 
for  what  is  done  there,  but  because,  now  that  the 
British  are  nigh,  you  are  pretty  sure  of  meeting  with 
good-society  there  ;  and  you  go  to  the  table  of  your 
Saviour  (provided  there  be  no  other  engagement,) 
because  there,  even  there,  good-society  may  some 
times  be  met  with 

Heigho. 

At  this  very  time,  that  no  part  of  your  superfluous 
piety  may  run  to  waste,  you  are  a  member  of  two  or 
three  little  evangelical  associations,  got  up  for  the 
encouragement  of  the  poor  and  the  base,  for  the  pro 
motion  of  tittle-tattle  and  the  icriptures;  and  you  are 
secretary  to  a  sort  of  club,  where,  at  so  many  coppers 
a  week  (filched  out  of  your  servants  or  your  milk- 
woman)  every  member  is  entitled  to  a  cup  of  tea  and 
a  vote  in  the  election  of  her  favorites  to  power  in  this 


152  THE    DOWN    EA8TERS,    &C.    &C. 

world  and  the  next ;  where  you  intermeddle  with 
mysteries  and  work-bags  at  the  same  time  ;  where 
you  rummage  among  the  stars  and  the  cherubim  with 
as  familiar  an  air,  as  other  bonnetted  things  do  among 
paste  jewelry,  Brazil  diamonds,  or  changeable  silk  in 
a  retail  shop  ;  where  you  prattle  about  heaven  and — 
the  other  place,  very  much  as  you  do  about  your 
puddings  and  pies;  and  select  places  for  good-society, 
in  the  sky,  and  for  unbelievers — not  in  the  sky  ;  as  if 
each  of  you  had  a  map  of  our  Father's  house — that 
house  with  many  mansions — with  a  plan  of  the  pit 
and  boxes. 

Well 

You  are  a  member,rto  my  knowledge,  of  a  tract- 
society,  and  a  part  of  your  pastime  is  a  sort  of  whole 
sale  piracy ;  you  learn  to  make  books,  not  by  com 
bining  letters  and  syllables,  but  paragraphs  and  peri 
ods  ;  by  pasting  together  bits  of  newspapers,  of  little 
greasy  story  books,  of  superannuated  almanacks,  of 
worn-out  ballads ;  producing  therefrom,  by  slight 
changes  of  titles,  names,  dates  and  facts,  or  by  trans 
posing  an  occasional  period,  the  most  aflecting  and 
well-authenticated  narratives,  either  of  surprising 
conversions  to  your  creed,  or  of  terrible  judgments 
on  the  misbeliever,  with  certificates  in  blank  for  all 
who  are  pious  enough  to  vouch  for  their  truth 

You  are  in  a  sweet  humor,   to  be  sure ;  we  lay  no 
claim  to  the  authorship  of  the  works  we  put  forth 
we  merely  abridge  them  for  the  poor. 

So  !  abridgement  with  you,  means  the  tearing  a 
book  to  pieces  and  putting  a  few  of  the  leaves  together 
again  ? 

She  made  no  reply. 


DOWN  EA.STERS,  <fcc.  &c.  153 

It  is  further  lawful  I  hear,  when  you  have  no  tracts 
before  the  board,  for  the  members  to  sigh  in  rotation 
over  the  particular  depravity  of  such  or  such  a  person, 
who,  to  prove  your  impartiality,  or  your  superiority 
to  the  prejudices  of  the  world,  is  either  a  relation,  a 
friend,  or  a  neighbor. 

But  we  always  give  our  authority  for  what  we  say. 

So  as  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  its  being  attri 
buted  to  envy,  or  malice,  or  tea-gossip. 

Why,  what  would  you  have  ! 

I  hear  too,  that  she  who  has  the  readiest  tongue, 
the  shrillest  voice,  and  the  greatest  variety  of  anec 
dotes  not  generally  known,  of  domestic  infidelities 
and  squabbles  in  our  city,  is  made  chair-woman — over 
sea  they  would  call  her  a  char-woman. 

Lady  president  if  you  please. 

Well,  who  is  your  lady  president  now,  pray  ? 

The  lady  of  Mr.  B 

The  lady !  pshaw 

Of  Mr.  B —  the  rich  banker. 

The  rich  banker !  fiddle  de  dee,  Mrs.  A we  have 

no  bankers  here. 

And  a  very  pious  lady  she  is  too,  and  very  chari 
table. 

How  dare  you  say  so  !  She  is  a  woman  of  no  true 
piety,  of  no  fixed  religious  faith,  and  you  know  it ;  a 
mere  gossip  and  the  worst  of  all  gossips,  a  gossip  in 
creeds,  without  knowledge,  and  without  a  spark  of 
true  charity,  if  you  mean  the  charity  that  seeth  no 
evil — hopeth  no  evil. 

Thinketh,  if  you  please 

A  woman  who  believes  that  they  who  are  not  of 
her  church  must  be 1  will  not  say  what  now ;  and 


154  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

that  your  good-for-nothing  moral  people,  who  do 
their  duty  on  earth  for  the  sake  of  what  may  be  had 
on  earth,  and  belong  to  no  church  at  all,  are  hardly 
worth  praying  for  ;  a  woman  of  no  worth,  of  no 
character 

Of  no  character ! 

Of  no  principle ;  very  like  the  majority  of  women 
though,  educated  as  they  now  are,  not  so  positively 
bad,  as  negatively  good.  She  charitable  !  God  for 
give  you !  Her  charity  is  confined  to  those  who  go 
to  her  church,  or  visit  where  she  visits,  or  to  people 
whom  she  knows,  loves,  or  shares  in  the  reputation  of, 
whatever  it  may  be ;  or  it  is  that  kind  of  give-and 
take-charity  which  induces  her  to  excuse  every  thing 
in  every  body,  partly  that  she  may  appear  amiable, 
and  partly  in  the  hope  that  one  day  or  other,  we  may 
be  ready  to  excuse  every  thing  in  her.  It  is  not  the 
charity  that  engirdles  the  earth,  embracing  every 
creature  alive,  our  enemies — the  whole  human  family, 
pressing  them  together  on  every  side  as  with  a  sort 
of  moral  atmosphere,  by  whieh,  and  through  which 
the  pulsation  of  a  heart  here  may  sound  through  all 
the  hearts  of  Europe,  and  the  throb  of  a  heart  there, 
sound  through  every  other  quarter  of  the  globe. 

Ah,  but  how  humble  she  is,  and  how  meek! 

Very !  humble  enough  to  go  in  the  attire  of  a 
princess  to  beg  for  the  poor ;  humble  enough  to  wash 
the  clean  feet  of  the  youthful  and  the  healthy, — if 
she  had  a  crown  upon  her  head,  or  if  a  whole  nation 
were  looking  at  her ;  humble  enough  I  dare  say, 
when  the  sea  roars,  when  the  sky  thunders,  or  the 
earth  shakes — to  hide  herself  in  holes  and  corners 
with  abject  humility. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &-C.    &.C.  155 

Lordv  how  you  talk  ! 

She  is  not  of  them  that  are  able  to  stand  upright  in 
the  earth-quake,  yet  fear  to  blaspheme  their  Maker, 
by  calling  any  work  of  his  hands,  least  of  all  that 
which  he  has  made  in  his  own  image,  utterly  vile  and 
worthless. 

If  you  go  on  so,  I  must  leave  you! 

Thus  much  to  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  Mrs.  A's 
character,  and  that  of  her  conversation.     It  may  be 
that  he  has  heard  a  beautiful  widow  reason  before — if 
not,  he  will  be  gratified  with  what  I  affirm  to  be  a 
true  report  of  the  discourse  that  she  indulged  me 
with  :  let  me  add  here  that  Mrs.  Amory  was  precisely 
of  that  age,  whatever  that  may  be,  when  a  woman  is 
most   to  be  feared  by  a  full  grown   man.     Young 
women,  and  beautiful  children  of  that  age  that   all 
women  wish  to  be,  "Sweet  sixteen,"  seldom  or  never 
succeed  in  snaring  a  full-grown  man  ;  or  if  they  do, 
they  are  never  able  to  keep  him.     The  proud,  the 
wise,  and  the  mature  of  the  male  sex  are  not  much 
given  (whatever  the  poets  may  say,  and  whatever  the 
fair  may  suppose)  to  doating  upon  women  while  they 
doat  upon  green-apples  and  confectionary,  chalk  or 
charco   ',  or  bread-and-butter,  and  skip  the  rope,  hour 
after  hour,  with  what  is  called  a  sincere  and  innocent 
joy ;  they  cannot  abide  the  unfledged  nestling — they 
seek  a  braver  appetite,    a   heavier  plumage   and   a 
louder  note  in  the  bird  that  is  to  sing  them  to  sleep 
in   the  pride  of  their  strength — birds  that  are  met 
with  only  in  the  far-quiet  and  shadowey  places  of  our 
earth,  or  along  the  sea-shore — the  solitary  spirits  of 
the  solitude. 

You  are  to  be  with  us  on  Friday  week,  I  hope, 


156  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

said  Mrs.  Amory,  laying  her  hand  with  a  sweet  care 
less  air  upon  my  shoulder,  in  the  midst  of  my  revery. 

On  Friday  week  !  I  hope  not. 

Very  civil,  to  be  sure 

If  the  ship  does  not  arrive  soon — Good  God !  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  stay  here  ;  I  am  wasting  my  life 
away,  fretting  myself  to  death.  - 

Poor  man — perhaps  you  are  in  love. 

God  forbid — ah  ;  a  knock — I  must  be  off. 

Off  now  !  off  in  such  a  hurry  !  no,  no,  my  dear  sir, 
that  will  never  do.  If  you  must  leave  me,  wait  till 
you  see  who  it  is — Ah — I  know  that  step  ! — dont 
escape  now  the  moment  the  door  is  opened,  I  beseech 
you — Ah,  my  dear  Mr.  G.  how  d'ye  do  ;  where's  your 
Georgia  friend? 

Here  to-morrow,  said  the  new  comer.  It  wa» 
Atherton  Gage  himself,  but  so  altered,  so  pale  and  so 
haggard,  I  scarcely  knew  him. 

Will  he  indeed ! 

I  thought  you  were  determined  never  to  admit  the 
handsome  profligate,  as  I  have  heard  you  call  him, 
into  your  house  again,  said  Gage. 

Ah,  but  he  is  not  so  bad  now,  I  hope  ? 

Worse  than  ever. 

What  can  I  do  ? 

Do  ! pshaw • 

I  beg  your  pardon !  Mr.  G.  Mr.  F. ;  Mr.  F.  Mr,  G. 
Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

Happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  F. 

How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  G  ?  And  we  both  laughed  at  the 
oddity  of  the  introduction. 

Well,  said  Mrs.  A. ;  hereafter  you  shall  be  Mr.  F. 
and  you  Mr.  G.  You  shall  go  by  no  other  names. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C.  157 

It  was  indeed  the  very  Gage  I  saw  on  board  the 
steam-boat ;  we  recognized  each  other  immediately^ 
and  having  laughed  heartily  together  at  our  absurd 
introduction  by  Mrs-.  Amory,  we  were  on  a  very 
familiar  footing  before  we  parted. 

Ah,  you  appear  to  know  each  other !  cried  she. 

We  have  met  before,  said  I. 

Under  very  peculiar  circumstances,  added  Mr.  G. ; 
this  gentleman  saw  the  whole  of  that  unhappy  affair, 
which  led  to  the  overthrow  of  our  plans  for  the 
South, 

Indeed  !  How  wonderful  that  I  should  never  have 
heard  either  of  you  speak  of  the  other  !  Pray,  Mn 
Fox — turning  to  me* 

We  did  not  know  each  other  madam ;  said  I. 

But  you  shall  know  each  other  now — the  two  best 
friends  I  have  on  earth. 

Gage  smiled,  I  bowed,  the  widow  returned  my  bow> 
and  I  was  the  happiest  man  alive. 

We  passed  the  even-ing  together,  and  a  part  of  the 
next  day,  and  the  whole  of  the  next,  and  before  the 
week  was  over,  we  were  on  the  best  terms  in  the 
world,  with  the  widow,  with  ourselves,  and  with  each 
other.  But  one  thing  puzzled  me — I  was  anxious  to 
hear  about  Elizabeth  Hale,  the  fair  Quakeress — but 
whenever  I  alluded  to  her,  he  would  contrive  to 
change  the  subject,  so  that  up  to  tl*e  last  hour  of  my 
being  with  him,  I  was  never  able  to  learn  whether  she 
was  dead  or  alive ;  and  yet  some  how  or  other,  I  had 
a  suspicion  that  he  knew,  and  was  determined  not  to 
gratify  me. 

On  Friday  you  are  to  go  with  me  to  Mrs.  A's  great 
annual  party — we  shall  take  no  excuse  ;  I  want  you 


158  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

to  see  Middleton,  said  Gage,  one  evening  as  we  sat 
lounging  together  at  the  play ;  I  want  you  to  see  that 
fellow  in  his  glory — surrounded  by  all  the  finest 
women  of  New-York,  though  they  know  and  every 
body  else  knows  here,  that  he  is  a  very  sad  fellow 
among  the  women — a-sheer  profligate. 

Are  you  serious  ? 

Quite.  You  will  hear  him  declared  to  be  so  by  all 
the  mothers,  and  all  the  daughters  of  the  city. 

Who  avoid  him  of  course. 

Avoid  him  !  pho — if  he  should  be  there  on  Friday 
evening,  I  would  have  you  watch  their  behaviour 
toward  him ;  it  will  show  you  the  true  character  of 
many — of  our  beautiful  widow  among  the  rest. 

Of  our  beautiful  widow — I  began  to  feel  a  mis 
giving. 

Why  sir,  you  must  know  that  from  my  boyhood 
up,  I  have  been  reckoned  a  very  exemplary  sort  of  a 
somebody — having  the  reputation  of  great  wealth 
(undeservedly  I  confess)  yet  being  no  way  remarka 
ble  for  the  vices  of  the  age.  Mr.  Amory  gave  one 
of  her  large  parties  a  month  or  two  ago — perhaps 
you  were  there  1 

No  ;  I  had  gone  up  the  North-River. 

Well,  I  was  invited,  was  unfashionable  enough  to 
go  before  day-break,  and  received,  so  long  as  there 
was  no  other  young  man  in  the  room  of  more  wealth 
or  of  a  worse  character,  a  .deal  of  attention — To  say 
all  in  a  word,  Atherton,  dear  Atherton  was  particularly 
distinguished  by  every  body.  So  then,  said  I,  inter 
rupting  him,  your  name  is  Atherton  Gage  after  all, 
and  not  Nehemiah  ? 

Yes — But  let  me  finish.    Now  I  know  of  nothing  so 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C.  159 

awful,  as  being  formally  introduced  to  a  jury  of 
mothers,  who  have  heard  a  deal  of  you,  who  have 
been  expecting  you  for  a  whole  hour,  and  who  have, 
God  knows  how  many  daughters  on  their  hands 
undisposed  of — si»ch  daughters  being  seated  in  a  row, 
all  about  the  room,  every  two  flanking  a  mother,  all 
with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor,  and  all,  you  would 
suppose  holding  their  breath,  as  you  enter  the  room. 
To  see  the  looks  that  are  interchanged  as  you  draw 
near  !  Round  you  go — round  the  whole  room  after 
the  man  of  the  house,  repeating  the  names  that  you 
hear,  but  always  repeating  them  so  that  nobody 
knows  what  you  say ;  bowing  always  to  the  wrong 
person,  to  Miss  Amory,  when  you  are  introduced  to 
the  mother  of  ten  boys,  whom  you  are  desirous  of 
complimenting  on  her  family,  or  to  the  mother  of  ten 
boys  when  you  are  presented  to  Miss  Emily  Bibb 
Tucker. 

A  real  name,  I'd  swear 

A  real  name,  you  may  swear,  and  then  the  triumph 
of  the  daughters,  when  the  virtuous  monster  appears, 
about  whom  they  have  heard  so  much,  and  the 
sheepish  look  of  the  mothers,  who  begin  to  see  they 
have  a  little  overshot  the  mark,  the  compassionate 
drowsy  expression  of  their  virtuous  eyes,  the  solemn 
elevation  of  their  virtuous  noses  ;  for  my  own  part 
sir,  I  do  not  wonder  at  all  that  modest  men  grow  des 
perate,  after  having  once  undergone  such  a  trial — 
after  having  been  once  in  company  with  libertines 
before  modest  women.  Why  sir,  on  the  night  I 
speak  of,  Middleton  did  not  appear  till  it  was  time 
for  the  better  sort  of  people  to  go ;  but  from  the 
istant  he  did  appear — bless  you — We  modest  well- 


160  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    <fcc.    &C. 

behaved  young  fellows,  might  as  well  have  been  at 
the  bottom  of  the  red-sea.  Nobody  saw  us — nobody 
heard  us — nobody  cared  for  us.  We  were  not  treat 
ed  with  common  decency  by  the  virtuous  women  ;  we 
might  have  starved,  but  for  the  humanity  of  the  waiters, 
or  commissaries  rather,  whose  instinct  seems  to  lead 
them  on  such  occasions  to  those  who  are  particularly 
virtuous  or  particularly  modest ;  to  all  who,  if  they 
were  to  pop  off  on  the  spot  with  an  apoplexy,  would 
never  be  missed  by  the  people  about  them,  befere 
they  saw  the  name  in  the  next  morning's  paper ;  to 
every  body  male  or  female  who  never  speaks  a  loud 
word  in  company,  nor  ever  at  all,  but  when  spoken 
to,  nor  ever  then,  without  laying  just  three  fingers  of 
the  left  hand  flat  upon  the  mouth  and  fetching  a  sort 
of  a-hem  !  thus — a — a — a-hem  !  You  smile  sir,  but 
what  I  say  is  very  true ;  Mrs.  Amory  had  just  put 
a  question  to  me  for  the  fifth  time,  which  question  I 
had  answered  four  times,  and  was  about  to  answer  a 
fifth  time  in  precisely  the  same  words,  when  Gerard 

Middleton   entered    the    room the    most    notorious 

profligate  of  New-York — Mrs.  Amory  never  heard  a 
syllable  of  my  fifth  answer. 

I  laughed  heartily  at  the  air  with  which  this  was 
said — it  was  so  natural,  so  true. 

I  did  not  much  like  this,  you  may  be  sure,  con 
tinued  Gage  ;  for  I  knew  that  I  was  generally  spoken 
of  as  amiable,  sweet  tempered  and  wholesome  ;  so 
very  sensible  for  my  age,  that  it  was  quite  a  comfort 
sometimes  to  hear  me  talk,  and  fitted  of  course  to 
make  any  woman  happy.  But  will  Gerard  Middleton, 
now,  luddy  tuddy  !  it  was  directly  the  reverse.  But 
while  everybody  said  so  of  me,  nobody  seemed  to. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  161 

believe  it,  even  among  the  fair  who  said  so  to  my 
teeth — every  one  appeared  disposed  to  except  her 
self — so  much  for  my  virtue — I  might  make  any 
woman  happy  and  welcome — if  she  would  let  me  ;  all 
appeared  to  believe  this,  and  there  the  matter  ended 
for  any  advantage  my  virtuous  character  was  to  me. 
To  be  sure,  they  stuffed  me  with  cake  till  I  could  not 
speak  so  as  to  be  understood,  and  scalded  me  with  hot- 
water  till  I  could  hardly  see  out  of  my  eyes ;  and 
then  if  I  made  up  to  a  fine  woman,  however  remarka 
ble  she  might  be,  I  found  that  she  only  lifted  her  head 
for  a  moment — and  after  seeing  who  it  was,  went  back 
to  her  sweetmeats,  or  cake  or  ice-cream,  as  if  she  had 
done  all  that  could  reasonably  be  expected  of  a  virtu- 
pus  woman  toward  a  virtuous  man.  Flesh  and  blood ! 
I  have  seen  such  things  !  Why  sir,  the  women  go 
before  such  as  me  in  their  dishabille,  without  a  touch 
of  remorse,  or  a  throb  of  self  reproach — the  dishabille 
of  their  minds  I  mean.  But  I  am  all  out  of  breath — 
after  a  short  pause,  he  returned  to  the  subject. 

I  felt  rather  curious  to  see  how  they  would  bear 
with  Middleton,  on  the  night  I  alluded  to ;  and  the 
more,  as  I  myself  had  heard  our  dear  delightful 
widow  say  that  he  was  a  young  fellow,  without  either 
religion  or  manners,  or  piety  or  good-breeding ;  I 
preserve  her  climax,  for  I  remember  it  well ;  she  was 
puffing  me  to  my  face,  her  dear  friend  Atherton,  for 
being  so  superior  to  most  people  of  my  age. — But 
you  dont  appear  to  relish  what  I  am  saying  of  the 
widow. 

Not  much  to  be  sure,  but  still — I — I — should  like  to 
know  the  truth. 

Should  you?     Well,  I  admire  your  courage. 
02 


162  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Go  on,  if  you  please 

Well,  I  have  heard  her  wonder  what  other  womer* 
could  find  in  him  so  attractive — a  mere  boy — 

Ah,  but  boys  are  the  devil  with  women  of  a  certain 
age. 

For  her  own  part,  he  was  the  last  person  in  the 
world  whom  she  would  permit  a  child  of  hers  to 
associate  with,  and  so — and  so — she  associated  with 
him  herself. 

Of  me,  Mrs.  Amory  had  always  spoken  in  the 
highest  terms,  praising  me  to  the  skies  before  Kate 
and  Phoebe,  (the  first  of  whom  I  was  dead  in  love 
with) ;  and  yet  when  I  came  to  see  her  and  them 
together,  I  was  received  with  only  that  kind  of  atten 
tion  which  everybody  pays  to  the  feeble  and  inno- 
fensive,  to  the  helpless  and  the  contemptible.  Oncer 
to  be  sure,  when  there  were  to  be  only  a  few  maiden 
ladies  of  no  particular  age  with  her,  some  of  the 
Bible-Society,  who  wanted  a  secretary,  and  a  few 
teachers  of  the  Sunday-school  who  were  on  the  look 
out  for  help,  I  had  a  regular  invite  for  the  season, 
with  the  run  of  the  parlor  and  as  much  cake  and  tea 
as  I  could  manage ;  but  then,  whether  we  met  once  a 
week,  or  once  a  month,  I  always  had  to  work  hard  for 
my  tea,  was  regarded  as  the  least  unfashionable  of 
the  set,  and  generally  passed  my  time  at  the  board, 
jammed  in  between  two  pair  of  bony  hips  that  never 
stirred  without  stirring  me^  But  then  to  give  the — 
glorious  widow — her  due,  if  she  accedentally  ran  her 
head  against  me  at  church,  I  was  pretty  sure  to  be 
ieen  by  her  ;  and  some  times  would  be  favored  with 
a  question  or  two  on  the  way  home,  if  she  walked, 
while  I  was  trotting  at  her  elbow  and  carrying  my 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  163 

umbrella  so  as  to  protect  her  and  expose  myself;  but 
then  she  never  heard  my  reply — never —  I  will  say 
that  for  the  widow — never  in  all  her  life,  or  else,  if 
she  did,  she  certainly  had  the  most  unlucky  memory ; 
for  at  the  very  next  breath,  if  she  spoke  at  all,  it 
would  be  to  repeat  the  very  same  question,  probably 
in  the  very  same  words,  looking  at  her  tidy  feet,  or 
dallying  with  her  own  pretty  fingers  the  while — 

Ah,  what  a  long  breath  you  drew  just  then  ! 

Did  I  !  sorry  for  it. 

Well,  everybody  spoke  of  me  in  the  same  way.  and 
treated  rne  in  the  same  way ;  everybody  praised  my 
virtues,  and  everybody  neglected  me.  I  passed  for  a 
young  man,  God  forgive  them,  wholly  superior  to  the 
vanities  of  the  day,  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the 
devil ;  wherefore  the  ladies  of  a  certain  age  were  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  and  acting  before  met  very  much 
as  if  I  were  a  lady  of  a  certain  age  myself;  and 
the  girls,  dear  creatures, — why,  they  were  as  careless 
and  slovenly  (I  can't  bear  the  word  sluttish)  in  my 
presence — heigho — as  if  I  were  a  wooden  youth,  or 
a  great  lubberly  younger  brother  of  their  own.  After 
a  while,  however,  a  sad  story  got  abroad  concerning 
myself  and  one  of  my  mother's  chamber-maids — there 
was  not  a  word  of  truth  in  it,  I  confess,  but  so  long 
as  it  was  believed,  I  did  not  lack  for  invitations — of 
that  you  may  be  sure  ;  and  if  I  ?  ppeared  in  company 
the  girls  either  opened  their  .eyes  at  me,  or  made 
mouths,  or  pulled  up  their  slippers,  or  hid  their  feet, 
or  would  not  see  me  till  after  they  had  washed  their 
faces  and  combed  their  hair. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FRIDAY  evening  arrived,  and  Gage  and  I  were 
together  at  the  very  place  where  I  had  determined 
never  to  be  again.  My  ship  was  ready  to  sail,  but  I 
cared  no  longer  for  the  ship ;  the  South-sea  voyage 
lay  before  me,  but  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  the 
south-sea ;  I  had  but  one  hope  hi  the  world — but  one 
desire.  I  had  not  been  able  to  sleep  for  three  nights — 
ever  since  our  conversation  at  the  play ;  I  had  put  off 
the  hour  of  going  to  bed  as  long  as  I  possibly  could; 
knowing  that  the  night  would  be  a  sleepless  one,  a 
night  of  sorrow  and  fever,  and  fear  and  bitter  self- 
reproach,  and  every  night  the  same  till  I  should  be 
weary  and  sick  of  life  ;  and  I  had  risen  morning 
after  morning  at  a  very  early  hour,  because  I  had 
found  it  so,  morning  after  morning  ;  though  every 
night  when  I  laid  my  aching  head  upon  the  pillow,  it 
was  with  a  determination  to  be  very  late  on  the 
following  day — for  what  else  could  I  do  ?  Hour  after 
hour,  would  I  lie  with  my  eyes  shut,  striving  to  wear 
away  the  time,  to  count  myself  asleep,  to  remember 
the  very  words  that  she  spoke  to  me,  as  we  sat  side 
by  side  on  that  couch — hang  that  couch — the  very 
day  before  I  encountered  her  dear  friend  Gage — hang, 
her  dear  friend  Gage — endeavouring  to  persuade  my 
self,  though  I  dared  not  look  at  my  watch,  that  I  had 
wasted  a  goodly  portion  of  the  day,  while  yet  it 
lacked  seven  or  eight  hours  of  noon  ;  that  she  did 
care  for  me  after  all,  though  I  had  no  courage  to 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  165 

think  of  her  behaviour  when  the  arrival  of  Middleton 
was  mentioned,  or  of  the  color  that  flashed  up  over 
her  pale  face  when  she  heard  Gage  say  that  we  were 
acquainted.  Perhaps,  thought  I,  perhaps  Gage  may 
be  a  rival  of  mine ;  perhaps  he  may  not  like  her 
manner  toward  me,  and  if  so — by  heaven  !  I  will  see 
them  together ! — I  wish  I  could  see  her  alone  with 
Gage  or  Middleton — no  matter  which — it  would  be 
easy  for  me  to  behave  like  a  man  if  I  know  the  truth, 
much  as  I  love  her — love  her  !  yes  I  do  love  her  !  I 
love  her  as  I  never  loved  any  other  woman;  but  so 
long  as  I  am  in  doubt,  I  must  behave  like  a  boy — I 
must  and  will  ! 

So,  on  Friday  evening,  though  the  ship  was  ready 
for  sea,  instead  of  going  abroad,  I  went  where  I 
might  see  the  woman  I  most  loved  on  earth  betray 
her  love,  not  for  me,  but  for  another — a  mere  boy. 

She  saw  me  the  moment  I  entered  the  room,  and 
came  up  to  me,  and  gave  me  both  her  hands  before 
all  the  company.  How  was  it  possible  to  doubt  her 
after  that?  She  had  never  looked  so  well.  Her 
large  clear  eyes,  of  a  color  that  no  two  persons  were 
ever  able  to  agree  about,  were  full  of  expression,  full 
of  subdued  beauty,  and  her  black  hair — massive  and 
black  as  foliage  carved  in  ebony,  was  like  that  of  a 
woman  just  hurried  out  of  a  bath  to  her  own  bridal, 
with  hardly  time  enough  to  coil  up  the  magnificent 
profusion  of  her  wet  shining  tresses.  To  tell  the 
truth  however,  the  whole  truth,  I  must  own  that 
although  she  gave  me  both  hands  with  a  show  of 
cordiality,  which  at  any  other  time  would  have  made 
a  fool  of  me,  I  was  not  altogether  satisfied  by  her 
manner ;  it  was  too  eager,  too  hurried,  too  anxious-?-* 


166  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &.C. 

and  her  eyes  were  upon  the  door  all  the  time  she  was 
talking  to  me ;  and  though  she  llattered  tne  to  my 
face  with  a  fine  speech,  and  though  I  knew  it  was 
flattery,  and  though  it  is  very  flattering  to  know  that 
you  are  worth  flattering,  still — still — my  heart  mis 
gave  me.  I  could  not  breathe  as  I  now  breathe, 
and  I  could  see  nothing  but  eyes  all  about  me,  hear 
nothing  but  a  confused  murmur,  for  the  first  minute 
or  t.vo  after  I  entered. 

She — I  do  not  like  to  say  Mrs.  Amory,  or  the 
widow,  in  this  part  of  my  story,  she  was  at  the  head 
of  those  who  were  thought  to  have  a  peculiar  knack 
at  entertaining  company.  She  had  a  word  for  every 
body,  a  smile  for  everybody,  and  a  hand  for  every 
body.  Sometimes,  to  be  sure,  I  found  that  it  was  the 
very  same  word,  and  that  while  she  was  giving  her 
hand  to  A,  she  was  talking  to  B,  smiling  to  C,  and 
bowing  to  D. 

It  would  not  be  two  much  to  say  that  her  tongue 
was  never  idle,  from  the  first  moment  I  saw  her  till 
the  very  last ;  hour  after  hour  was  consumed  in  re 
peating  the  same  or  similar  things  over  and  over 
again  to  every  body  she  spoke  to;  and  yet  she 
appeared  to  me  over-thoughtful  and  over-anxious  all 
the  first  part  of  the  evening.  She  was  called  witty, 
and  smart,  and  showy,  and  clever  (by  an  Englishman  ; 
pray  observe  this,  for  in  this  country,  1o  be  clever  is 
to  be  good-natured,  as  to  be  a  fine  woman  here  is  to 
be  a  woman  of  agreeable  manners  and  pretty  good 
sense,  whatever  may  be  her  shape,  while  in  England 
&fine  woman  is  a  large,  dignified  showy  woman,)  and 
I  cannot  deny  that  she  gave  out  her  oranges  and 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  167 

repartees,  cakes  and  conundrums,  riddles  and  sweet 
meats  with  a  deal  of  propriety  and  grace. 

And  yet,  (I  will  say  Mrs.  Amory  now,  for  I  just 
begin  to  remember  how  she  treated  me,  and  have 
worked  myself  up  to  the  right  humor  for  telling  the 
truth  of  her,)  Mrs.  A.  was  not  very  witty,  she  was 
only  rather  so ;  her  replies  were  quick,  and  therefore 
they  passed  for  repartees  ;  whatever  she  said,  was 
said  with  an  air  of  smartness  and  fire  which  took 
people  by  surprize,  and  therefore  she  appeared  to  be 
witty.  Her  wit  however,  was  only  the  wit  of  the 
toy-shop,  the  retail-haberdashery  of  the  drawing 
room,  the  'every-day  retorts,  which  are  to  be  met 
with  on  every-day  conversation  cards — they  could 
not  go  wrong,  they  could  easily  be  invited,  and 
almost  anybody  might  entrap  another  into  saying  that 
which  would  justify  a  cut-and-dried  repartee  ;  it  was 
nothing  of  that  high-bred  sprightly  playfulness  of  the 
tongue,  that  capricious,  brilliant  coquetry  of  a  superior 
understanding,  the  dear  delightful  nonsense  of  a  happy 
heart,  which  when  it  is  natural,  is  so  captivating.  No, 
no,  my  dear  widow — it  was  the  common,  poor,  con 
ventional  wit  which  people  use  after  having  associated 
long  together  and  got  all  their  good  things  in  com 
mon — a  sort  of  genteel  cant  of  their  own,  which 
enables  any  two  of  them,  if  they  meet  before  a 
stranger,  to  play  off,  a  certain  quantity  of  rehears 
ed  and  prepared  lively  dialogue  as  if  it  were 
unpremeditated.  Reader — perhaps  you  may  have 
seen  two  weather-beaten  old-fellows,  who  had  been 
at  sea  together  some  forty  years  before,  sit  and  laugh 
at  each  others  unintelligible  joke's  "  turn  about"  as 
they  say,  for  two  or  three  hours  together  on  a  stretch  ; 


168  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

or  perhaps  you  may  have  met  with  two  broken-down 
bachelors,  on  a  raw  day  at  a  windy  corner,  and  heard 
them  as  they  stood  shivering  in  their  light  coats  (with 
the  tails  blowing  over  their  heads)  and  plethoric 
trowsers,  holding  on  by  their  hats  and  compliment 
ing  each  other  on  their  good  looks,  till  you  wondered 
how  they  were  able  to  keep  their  countenances  ?  If 
so,  you  have  an  idea  of  what  I  mean  by  thorough-bred 
courtesy  and  conventional  wit. 

So — so — cried  Gage,  coming  up  to  me  as  I  stood  in 
a  far  corner  of  the  room,  watching  the  people  about 
me  as  if  they  and  I  were  not  of  the  same  earth — So, 
so  !  how  d'ye  do,  glad  to  see  you  ;  I  like- your  way, 
you  mean  to  be  of  our  side,  I  see. 

Of  your  side — how — 

You  mean  to  be  virtuous  and  meek  ;  well,  well,  it 
gives  you  many  advantages.  They  permit  us  to  linger 
after  the  rest  are  gone,  to  hear  what  every  body  has 
to  say  of  every  other  body — after  every  other  body's 
back  is  turned. 

Quere — if  that  would  be  so  agreeable  ? 

You  are  getting  serious  ! 

No,  no — I  hope  not. 

Yes  you  are — so  take  hold  of  my  arm,  and  come 
along  with  me,  and  will  try  to  entertain  you. 

I  took  his  arm,  and  we  walked  away  together ;  for 
I  knew  not  how  to  escape  from  the  misery  of  my  own 
thought ;  I  longed  to  be  away  on  board  the  ship,  or 
any  where — at  the  very  bottom  of  the  South-Sea,  and 
yet  I  had  not  the  courage  to  move.  The  woman  that 
held  such  power  over  me — God  knows  how  and  for 
what  purpose,  if  she  did  not  love  me — stood  a  little  way 
off,  and  my  heart  died  within  me,  as  I  saw  her  color 


THE    DOWN    MASTERS,    &-C.    &O.  169 

and  go,  at  every  knock  at  the  door,  and  at  every 
step  that  approached  us. 

Why  sir,  continued  Gage,  as  we  drew  near  to  a 
group  of  ladies  all  talking  together — I  have  seen  our 
widow — ah  !  there  she  is  now — I  have  seen  her  pull 
that  very  group  to  pieces  one  by  one,  after  they  had 
been  prattling  together  as  they  are  now,  for  a  whole 
hour ;  I  have  seen  her  laugh  at  and  mimic  the  fat 
mother,  who  to  give  the  lady  her  due,  is  to  be  sure  a 
terrible  eater — a — a — a  (mimicking)  can't  sleep  ma'm, 
can't  upon  my  word  after  a  late  supper  with  you ; 
very  bad  health  just  now,  very — thankee  my  dear; 
another  leg  o'  the  chicken,  if  you  please — very  delicate 
indeed,  I  assure  you ;  really  now  its  quite  distressing 
to  see  how  some  people  gorge — a  jelly  if  you  please* 
;niy  dear ;  one  would  think  they  were  never  able  to 
get  enough — upon  my  word  that  cream  looks  nice, 
I'll  trouble  you  sir,  or  that  they  never  got  any  goodies 
at  home  ;  with  all  my  heart  sir — though  I  never  drink 
wine,  your  very  good  health  sir !  a  bit  o'  the  breast 
rny  dear  ;  thank  you  sir  for  one  of  the  sweet-breads — 
a — a — I  have  long  had  a  desire  to  see  how  they  are  got 
up ;  by  the  by,  love — there's  a  cranberry-tart  near 
you — much  obleeged  to  you — I  have  known  people, 
and  very  pretty-behaved  people  they  were  too,  with 
such  a  stomach  ! — a  jelly  my  dear  if  you  please,  they 
would  digest  an  ostrich thank  you  iove. 

By  this  time,  we  had  got  into  the  middle  of  a  mag 
nificent  room  which  overlooked  the  North-River;  and 
1  stood  there  a  while,  studying  the  characters  about 
me,  as  they  passed  and  eddied  and  whirled  hither  and 
thither,  like  the  shadows  we  see  in  a  camera  obscura. 
It  appeared  to  be  crowded  with  strangers,  people 


170  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

from  abroad,  British  officers  and  American  officers^ 
naval  and  military,  here  a  judge  and  there  a  shop1- 
keeper ;  on  my  left  a  general  who  walked  with  his 
toes  in  and  his  head  forward,  there  a  legislator  unable 
to  express  himself  in  his  mother-tongue.  Here  a  fat 
wealthy  West-Indian,  with  a  shape  and  a  complexion 
so  like  that  of  a  huge  overgrown  toad,  as  to  provoke 
every  body  that  saw  her  to  cry  out  at  the  resem 
blance,  there  a  dear  little  mahogony  daughter  with 
hair  blacker  than  the  wing  of  a  raven.  The  mother 
you  see,  is  a  little  tipsy — or  so — hiccup — said  Gage, 
and  does  nothing  you  see  but  laugh  now  and 
then  very  oddly  and  abruptly,  at  nobody  knows 
what,  pull  forth  a  splendid  watch  with  a  deliberate 
flourish,  set  it,  or  wind  it  up,  and  put  it  back  into  her 
feather-bed,  with  another  flourish,  and  a  sparkle  each 
time  that  never  fails  to  produce  a  dead  silence,  you 
see,  among  the  ladies  about  her — who  have  neither 
watches  nor  diamonds — it  absolutely  takes  their 
breath  away. 

By  her  side  was  another  large  woman,  who  appear 
ed  very  anxious  I  thought  concerning  five  great 
gawky  girls  who  sat  in  a  row  at  her  elbow ;  and  I 
heard  her  whisper  to  one  of  the  five  that  Mr.  some- 
body-or-other,  who  was  then  helping  them  to  a  batch 
of  cake,  was  not  to  be  encouraged,  being  as  she  had 
reason  to  know,  a  young  man  of  no  property. 

Ah,  said  I,  they  are  very  rich  I  suppose,  and  the 
inother  would  keep  an  eye  on  the  cake-bearers. 

Alarmingly  so 

How  much  ? 

Guess. 

Why,  fifty  thousand  dollars  each. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &,C.  171 

No — five  thousand  dollars  or  so,  not  more. 

Indeed ! 

Among  the  whole  five. 

What  airs  ! 

Yes — for  heiresses. 

Who  is  that  pray  ?  said  a  neighbor  to  Mr.  Gage,, 
pointing  as  he  spoke,  to  a  young  fellow  that  stood 
near,  of  a  noble  aspect,  with  the  wisdom  and  sincerity 
of  a  good  man  so  conspicuous  in  his  broad  clear  fore 
head,  fine  mouth,  and  composed  carriage,  that  no  one 
could  have  doubted  his  goodness,  it  appeared  to  me — 
at  least  I  could  not,  after  I  saw  that  nobody  went 
near  him,  except  once  or  twice,  to  see  if  he  had  enough 
bread-and-butter  for  the  evening. 

That,  said  Gage  with  a  smile,  which  I  understood, 
is  a  Unitarian  preacher,  a  moral  man  of  the  North v 
and  a  very  good  fellow  he  is  too.. 

That  I  am  sure  of,  said  I. 

You  know  the  discipline  of  the  college  where  they 
are  bred  perhaps. 

Perhaps  I  do ;  but  a  look  at  his  plate  would  be 
enough  to  satisfy  me ;  you  may  estimate  the  moral 
character  of  every  man  here,  by  the  degree  of  atten 
tion  he  receives. 

Bitter  enough — you  seem  to  have  little  or  no  use  for 
your  plate,  I  see,  and  if  I  were  you ah ! 

He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  sentence,  left  me, 
and  hurried  away  to  the  most  extraordinary  looking 
young  man  I  ever  saw,  with  a  bright  olive  com 
plexion,  a  perfectly  Greek  face,  and  large  black  eyes. 
He  appeared  to  be  full  six  feet  high,  and  he  wore  his. 
hair  parted  upon  his  forehead  and  falling  back  over, 
his  shoulders  with  a  slovenly  savage  air  that  reminded, 
?ne,  of  something  I  bad  seen  before., 


172  THE    BOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Pray  said  I,  turning  to  a  neighbour^  can  you  tell  me 
the  name  of  that  person 

A  long  deep  breath  at  my  elbow  made  me  turn  the 
other  way.  It  was  my  dear,  dear  Mrs.  Amory — there 
she  stood  !  within  a  step  of  me  without  seeing  me, 
her  body  bent  forward,  her  hands  half-locked  in  a 
superb  shawl,  and  her  eyes  rivetted — ay,  rivetted  on 
the  stranger,  who  threw  up  his  head  with  a  look  of 
surprize  when  he  saw  me.  It  was  Gerard  Middleton,. 
but  so  altered,  so  grown,  so  superior  to  what  he  was 
when  we  parted  on  the  wharf,  that  I  should  have 
passed  him  on  the  high-way  without  knowing  him. 

Oh  Mrs.  Amory  !  said  I  to  myself,  when  I  saw  her 
look,  and  his  carriage  toward  her.  Oh,  Mrs.  Amory, 
Mrs.  Amory,  oh  !  High  time  for  you  to  be  off  Mr.  Fox, 
and  the  sooner  you  are  off  the  better,  Mr.  Fox,  and 
the  sooner  you  are  on  your  way  to  the  bottom  of  the 
South-sea,  the  better  Mr.  Fox.  Another  man  would 
not  have  waited  for  this — but  you  are  a — what  am  I  ? — 
you  are  a  fool  Mr.  Fox.  Very  true,  said  I,  Then  why 
don't  you  go  Mr.  Fox.  Because  I  am  fool  enough  to 
desire  nothing  but  her  happiness — and  if  I  see  that 
he  is  really  dear  to  her  ;  if  it  be  in  my  power  to  pro 
mote  their  union,  I  will  do  so,  whatever  be  the  sacri 
fice  to  me.  You  are  a  d — d  fool,  to  be  sure  Mr.  Fox ; 
and  here  my  soliloquy  ended  much  to  my  relief.  Now 
Middleton  was  undoubtedly  the  handsomest  man 
there  ;  and  though  I  felt  ft  strong  desire  to  cut  his 
throat,  I  could  not  help  liking  the  brave  haughty 
negligence,  the  proud,  happy  freedom  of  his  carriage 
and  look,  as  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  us  with  every 
eye  upon  him,  and  my  tlear  widow  biting  her  underlip. 
at  his  side. 


THB    DOWN    RASTERS,    &C.    &C.  173. 

What  was  to  be  done?  Should  I  go — or  should  I 
stay  ?  Should  I  run  off  like  a  boy,  and  go  a-board 
the,  ship,  and  behave  like  a  fool  for  the  rest  of  the 
voyage ;  or  should  I  carry  the  matter  through  like  a 
man;  stay  where  I  was,  and  outbrave  the  proud, 
woman  to  her  face  ? 

Hey  ! — what ! — in  a  brown  study  again  ?  said  Gage- 
Here  Middleton !  this  way — I  wish  you  to  be  acquaint 
ed  with  Mr.  Fox.  We  bowed  to  each  other,  OR 
more  properly  at  each  other,  and  after  some  talk 
about,  I  never  knew  what,  we  were  intruded  upon  by 
a  lawyer — with  a  light  blue  neck-cloth,  rings  and 
broaches,  a  tilter  in  his  walk,  and  a  pretty  Avife — a 
fellow  nevertheless  of  extraordinary  black-letter  erudi 
tion,,  said  Gage,  who  saw  me  staring  at  him,  with  a 
good  heart,  a  clear  head,  a  genteel  temper,  and  a  huge 
library;  quite  a  character,  studies  hard,  works  faith 
fully  at  his  profession,  takes  the  most  comprehensive 
and  profound  views  of  the  science 

Of  the  science  of  law  !  said  I,  bitterly  enough  I 
hope. 

Perhaps  you  may  not  call  it  a  science. 

No  faith — not  I, 

Ask  any  of  these  gentlemen  here. 

All  of  the  bar,  I  suppose  ?. 

Pretty  much. 

Excuse  me. 

Well  sir,  as  I  was  a  saying. 

He  takes  the  most  admirable  and  comprehensive 
views  of  the  law. 

In  de  main  sair,  said  a  Frenchman  who  stood  near, 
but  not  in  de  tail. 

And  yet,  ha,  ha,  ha !  he  wears  rings,  ruffles,  breast 
P  2 


174  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.. 

pins,  and  a  stock  that  half-strangles  him,  the  queerest 
colored  cloth  in  the  world  for  his  coat,  and  gets  along 
the  high-way  with  a  sort  of  a  tittupping  hitch,  as*  if 
he  had  the  spring-halt.  In  a  ball-room,  he  would  pass 
for  a  man-milliner,  or  what  is  far  more  contemptible 
in  a  state  where  women  are  helpless  or  not  allowed  to 
maintain  themselves,  for  a  retail  shop-keeper. 

I  bowed,  and  several  of  neighbours  hurried  away 
from  our  party,  as  he  proceeded. 

What  say  you  Mr.  Fox  ? 

I  say  as  you  do  Mr.  Gage. 

In  a  court  of  justice  you  would  take  him,  if  you 
were  too  far  off  to  hear  what  he  aaid,  for  a  travelling 
jeweller,  from  the  North,  trying  to  put  off  some  of 
his  ware  upon  the  judges.  Look — look  ! — he  is 
eternally  at  play  with  his  watch-chain,  or  wiping  the 
inside  of  his  palms  with  a  linen  cambric  handkerchief, 
or  pulling  his  chin,  or  taking  off,  wiping,  and  replacing 
his  gold-mounted  spectacles — let  us  go  nearer,  and 
you  shall  hear  what  they  have  to  say,  that  group  of 
lawyers  you  see  there,  our  legislators,  our  masters  ;. 
our  law-makers  and  our  law-interpreters. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

YES  sir,  said  one  of  the  number  as  we  drew  near,. 
But  I  maintain  that  the  words  A.  and  B.  were  married 
on  such  a  day,  are  sufficiently  precise  to  show  that 
the  said  A.  and  B.  were,  on  such  a  day,  made  husband 
and  wife. 

Excuse  me  Judge  Blarney. 

And  excuse  me  brother  Lyman. 

In  every  such  case,  all  that  we  require  should  be 
certainty  to  a  common  intent,,  a  reasonable  cer 
tainty. 

Very  true,  Judge. 

And  Lord  Coke  says  that,  in  pleading,  which  I 
regard  as  analogous,  we  shall  not  be  required  to  state 
things  with  more  certainty  than  they  are  capable  of. 

Does  Lord  Coke  say  that  ? 

He  dooze  indeed 

And,  that  where  pleading  tends  to  infiniteness. 

Well,  well  Judge  ;  but  how  does  it  appear  by  the 
words  in  question  that  A.  and  B.  are  male  and/ewaZe  ? 
And  if  they  are  not,  Judge — I  put  this  to  you,  with 
great  confidence — if  they  are  not !  how  can  they  be 
man  and  wife  ? 

True  brother — true,  said  another  lawyer  by  the 
name  pf  Scwall. 

What  if  you  save  the  point  ?  said  a  third. 

And — proceeded  the  speaker,  and  sir — and! — if  that 
be  the  case,  and  if  it  be  demurrable  to  for  uncertainty 
sir,  as  I  hold  it  to.be  sir — and  sir! — and! — as  you 


176  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

cannot  travel  out  of  the  record,  sir — it  appears  to  me 
sir,  that  the  words  A.  and  B.  sir,  were  married  sir,  are 
not  enough  to  show  that  A.  and  B.  are  entitled  to  relief 
as  parties  to  the  Bill  in  question ! 

Well  put  brother  Lyman !  well  argued  brother 
Blarney  !  cried  a  little  man  who  stood  in  the  rear  of 
the  judge  ;  nevertheless  I  submit  (looking  over  the 
the  arm  of  the  judge,  and  vociferating  as  if  he  were  on 
trial,  in  a  matter  of  life  and  death,)  I  submit,  I  say 
(The  devil  you  do,  cried  Gage,  who'd  a  thought  it  ?) 
that  in  addition  to  the  words  A.  and  B.  were  married — 
the  said  A.  and  the  said  B.  I  suppose  ' — 

To  be  sure — 

— I  assumed  that,  from  my  knowledge  of  the  high 
legal  character  of  our  learned  brother  ;  in  addition  to 
those  words  I  say,  I  submit  with  all  due  deference, 
that  the  word  together  might  have  been  used,  or  may 
hereafter  be  used — a  hem  ! — with  propriety. 

So  as  to  read  thus,  brother  Parsons — A.  and  B, 
were  married  together — hey?  said  Lyman. 

Precisely,  sir,     That's  the  point  I  would  make. 

But  how  would  that  show  what  you  are  desirous  to 
show  ;  they  may  be  both  men,  or  both  women,  and 
yet  both  married  together. 

Well,  to  be  sure  !  and  so  they  might  brother  Lyman. 

In  which  case,  added  another,  what  if  we  say  that 
A.  married  B.  or  B.  A.  ? 

Well,  and  if  we  do,  wjiat  then?  said  the  learned 
brother  in  the  blue  cravat;  A.  may  have  been  a  clergy 
man,  a  minister,  or  a  magistrate,  (vide  laws  of  the  colo 
ny,  Re-Co.) 

Re-Co.,  said  I,  what  does  that  mean  ? 

Revised  code — 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  177 

— Or  a  notary  (vide  laws  of  France,  code  Napoleon 
etc.  etc.)  or  a  blacksmith,  (vide  laws  of  Scotland)  in. 
which  case,  though  A.  were  to  marry  B.  still  B.  would 
not  be  A's.  wife. 

True,  true,  cried  several  of  the  group,  nodding  to 
each  other  all  round  with  a  look  of  admiration. 

Pray    brother  H. continued    the    Judge,  how 

would  it  work  to  say, — perhaps  you  have  authorities 
already  on  the  point — 

Brother  H.  made  a  very  low  bow. 

— To  say,  in  such  a  bill,  that  A.  and  B.  married  to 
gether,  in  the  active  sense,  you  observe — not  in  the 
passive,  brother  H.  ;  not  were  married  together. 

Why,  it  appears  to  me,  if  the  court  please — (a  laugh) 
— I  beg  pardon  of  the  court,  (another  laugh)  I  mean  to 
say,  Judge  Blarney,  that  we  have  disposed  of  that  point 
already,  because  if  people  are  married  at  the  same 
time,  they  are  married  together,  although  as  we  have 
it  in  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  and  in  the  great  case  of  Per- 
rin  and  Blake,  they  are  not  married  so  as  to  become 
legally  man  and  wife  ;  which  I  take  to  be  the  point  in 
issue.  Our  bill  being  intended  to  shew  that  A.  &  B. 
are  in  fact  husband  and  wife,  we  say — 

Ah  !  ha  !  but  I  have  you  now,  brother  H  ! — • —  we 
shall  adopt  your  idea,  we  shall  say  that  A.  and  B. 
were  made  husband  and  wife. 

Liable  to  the  same  objection  brother  B.  for  they 
may  be  made  so,  not  to  each  other,  but  to  some  other 
individuals. 

Good  God,  sir  !  cried  Gage,  is  there  to  be  no  end  of 
this — no  way  of  telling  the  story  on  paper. 

^What  if  you  say  that  A.  and  B.  were  united  on  such 
a  day — together,  said  I,  not  knowing  what  else  to  say. 


178  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &,C. 

Just  as  bad  :  for  two  people  may  be  united  together 
— to  two  different  people,  and  at  the  same  instant, 
you  observe. 

How  are  we  to  say  it,  I  beseech  you !  said  Middle- 
ton,  who  began  to  get  interested,  in  common  with 
every  body  else,  carried  away  by  the  earnestness,  per 
plexity,  and  subtlety  of  the  disputants,  who  looked  to 
be  sure  as  if  they  were  discussing  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  to  each. 

Why,  .  .  .  hesitating  .  .  .  why — a — a — 

Tip  him  a  fee  Middleton,  said  Gage  in  a  whisper. 

You  might  say,  continued  the  lawyer,  that  on  such 
a  day,  (naming  the  day)  at  such  a  place,  (naming  the 
place,)  A.  and  B.  (the  said  A.  and  the  said  B.)  were 
joined  together  in  lawful  wedlock — viz.  the  said  A.  to 
the  said  B. 

And  why  not  say  they  were  married  to  each  other, 
or  that  they  married  with  each  other,  or  that  the  man 
took  the  woman  to  wife  ? 

Why  to  be  sure — but  you'll  excuse  me — the  law  sir, 
the  law  requires  great  nicety  in  these  matters;  mere 
common  sense  might  allow  you  to  say — that  is — that 
is — in  short  sir,  there  is  no  authority  on  your  side — • 

No  authority,  sir  ! 

None,  sir,  none  in  the  world  sir. 

Why,  sir,  it  is  the  very  language  of  the  classics. 
The  lawyer  smiled,  and  the  Judge  drew  a  long  breath, 
which  to -my  ear,  soundedlike  the  monosyllable  pooh  ! 

Quere  de  hoc.  Here  we  parted,  I  was  thunder 
struck.  I  had  never  seen  the  exceeding  efficacy  of 
words  before,  never  seen  the  mystery  of  language 
«o  delicately  obvious.  Lord !  how  the  study  of  the 
law,  thought  I,  must  enlarge  and  elevate  and  sharpen 
the  proud  faculties  of  man. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C     &C.  17§ 

My  reflections  were  interrupted  by  a  voice  near  me 
< — Pooh,  pooh,  love — pooh,  pooh  !  said  a  large  man 
to  his  little  wife,  who  hung  upon  his  arm,  like  a  heap 
of  millinery,  pooh,  pooh  love,  how  you  talk — 

Ah,  but  he's  proper  smart  though  .  .  . 

Smart !  a  fellow  with  only  one  idea  in  his  head. 

One  eye,  dear!  .  .  how  can  you  say  so  !  I'm  sure 
lie's  got  two  eyes,  dear ! 

Why,  mother !  .  .  .  why,  ma  !  .  .  .  good  lord,  what 
a  fool  you  are,  love,! 

What  for  ?  .  .  .  did'nt  you  say  he'd  got  but  one  eye, 
dear  ?  (to  the  husband.) 

Yes  ma,  but  father  meant  what  you  call  an  idee. 

There  now !  .  .  .  that's  always  with  you ;  talking 
about  forchune  and  virtchue,  and  idee-ahs,  how  should 
I  know  what  you  mean,  if  you  dont  talk  like  other 
people  ? 

I  tell  you  what,  brother  Joe,  said  a  sweet  girl  near 
me,  as  we  moved  away,  he  may  pick  and  choose 
among  the  very  women  that  make  mouths  at  him,  and 
you'll  find  it  so  :  he  may  marry  any  woman  here  he 
pleases. 

And  who  may  not,  Miss  Peggy.  The  ugliest  and 
the  silliest  may  marry  whom  they  please,  may  they 
not,  my  dear  ?  added  a  joker  by  profession. 

Sister  Peggy.  I  do  beseech  you  to  make  more  use 
of  the  relatives,  whispered  her  brother,  a  tall  stiff  young 
man,  just  away  from  Harvard  for  the  holidays.  You 
never  hear  me  say  that  I  would  marry  any  body  I 
please — 

No,  indeed  .  . .  you  are  not  such  a  fool  as  that  comes 
to,  I  hope. 
But  any  body  whom  I  please,  or  that  I  please. 


180  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

Do  you  mean,  said  the  lawyer,  in  a  blue  stock,  who 
had  followed  us  to  the  spot;  pray  sir,  allow  me  to  ask 
you — drawing  out  a  rose-colored  handkerchief,  with 
a  low  bow  and  a  flourish,  and  taking  off  his  gold- 
mounted  spectacles,  and  wiping  them  very  deliberately 
before  he  went  any  further — to  ask  you  sir,  if  you 
hold  a — a 

Permit  me,  interrupted  a  man  whom  I  heard  called 
master  Gray,  permit  me  to  observe  sir,  that  the  idiom 
of  our  language  will  admit  of  a  .  .*".  of  a  sort  of  a — * 

To  be  sure,  that  is  the  very  thing  sir,  I  assure  you 

sir,  that  I  intended  to  lay  before  the to  oiler  that 

is — for  the  consideration  of  the 

You'll  excuse  me  /  added  the  grammarian — he 
stood  six  feet  four — the  idiom  of  our  language—raising 
his  voice  as  the  lawyer  tried  to  raise  his,  but  the  tall 
man  having  got  the  start  of  him  by  at  least  eleven 
inches,  the  lawyer  could  never  hope  to  overtake  his 
altitude — of  our  language  I 'say  sir,  and  I  think  I  ought 
to  know — 

Yes,  you  ought  to  know,  said  somebody  near  me  ; 
there  is  no  doubt  of  that — 

The  idiom  of  our  language  I  say,  will  permit  us 
to  employ  either  mode  indifferently. 

Oh !  very  indifferently  !  cried  the  same  voice  ;  I 
knew  by  the  very  key — the  very  pitch— that  it  belong 
ed  to  somebody  who  had  a  reputation  for  wit,  so 
eager,  and  so  sharp,  and  s«  decided,  and  so  well-timed 
for  effect  was  it. 

Every  body  laughed,  and  then,  after  the  laugh  had 
continued  for  a  minute  or  so,  every  body  began  to 
look  about  for  the  cause.  O  !  but  it  grieved  me  to 
hear  the  laugh  that  followed  every  speech  and  almost 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  181 

'-every  word  that  escaped  from  the  mouth  of  this  man. 
To  see  how  eagerly  he  was  followed,  how  he  was 
"waited  for,  and  how  they  would  laugh  as  if  they  were 
ready  to  die,  if  he  but  opened  his  mouth  or  pointed 
his  finger. 

I  withdrew  from  the  place,  and  I  know  flot  how  long 
I  should  have  kept  away,  though  the  woman  of  my 
heart  was  there  and  the  southerner  who  appeared  to 
have  got  possession  of  hers,  but  for  a  strange  quiet 
which  caused  me  to  look  up  ;  when  I  beheld  the  latter 
standing  near  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  literally 
holding  forth,  in  a  low  voice  to  be  sure,  but  loud 
'enough  to  fill  the  air  with  music,  unabashed,  unmoved 
by  the  stare  of  a  hundred  eyes. 

He  never  talked  so  well,  nor  so  fluently,  nor  so 
eloquently,  nor  so  connectedly  before,  whispered 
Gage,  who  stood  near  me.  And  ho  is  sure  to  talk 
best,  where  no  other  man  would  be  able  to  talk  at  all. 
No  matter  where  he  is,  nor  how  situated,  he  can  bear 
4he  heavy,  dead,  insupportable  silence  of  a  large  com* 
pany,  better  than  any  other  talker  I  ever  heard. 

He  seems  to  me  very  sure  of  being  heard  with  favor. 

Pray,  sir,  how  do  you  define  it  ?  said  a  middle-aged 
young  lady,  as  if  she  had  entered  the  course  for  a  talk 
with  him. 

I  should  say,  was  the  reply,  though  it  would  be  no 
easy  matter  to  give  a  definition,  that  enthusiasm  is  a 
sort  of  moral  electricity 

Pooh! — said  Gage — his  talking  was  for  talk  sake. 

I  knew  it,  I  saw  it  in  his  air — I  saw  it  in  every  . 
word  he  spoke,  and  yet  he  carried  me  away  with  him 
at  last :  he  stood  so  bravely  up  to  the  encounter  of  all 
the  eyes  in  the  room,  and  poured  his  heart  out  with 

Q 


182  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &,C.    &.C. 

such  unstudied,  earnest,  clear  simplicity,  in  such  A 
fine,  free  colloquial  style,  with  such  impassioned  sin* 
cerity  ;  using  with  wonderful  aptitude  the  very  words 
that  seemed  made  for  their  places,  and  fitted  for  the 
expression  of  a  thousand  subtle  and  exquisite  mean 
ings,  which  became  instantly  perceptible  to  me,  as  he 
talked  and  reasoned. 

But  while  we  were  gathered  about  him,  his  fine  bold 
voice  died  away,  and  immediately  a  pair  of  large  glass 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  all  the  company  poured 
into  the  garden,  which  lay  below  us  like  a  theatrical 
show  of  wood  and  water. 

Follow  me,  said  Mrs.  Amory,  tapping  Middleton 
on  the  arm — with  a  smile  which  went  to  my  heart. 

He  obeyed  with  a  careless  lounge,  and  we  followed 
them  to  the  river  side.  Ah  !  cried  Gage,  one  may 
look  into  the  lighted  water  now,  like  the  disembodied 
— among  the  stars.  Look  !  upon  my  word,  I  can  see 
the  fish  darting  hither  and  thither  like  so  many  flashes 
of  light,  through  the  dim  shadowy  depth  ;  and  you 
I  hope  will  stick  by  us,  he  added  glancing  at  the  plate 
of  the  preacher  who  lingered  in  the  rear ;  and  as  for 
you  (in  a  whisper  to  the  widow)  my  notion  is  that  you 
had  better  have  an  eye  on  that  serious-looking  pale 
man.  I  have  been  at  his  elbow  this  half  hour,  and  you 
may  take  my  word  it,  he  is  not  a  fellow  to  be  quieted 
with  nuts  and  gingerbread — 

Hush,  Atherton — hush,  he'll  hear  you — 

— Nor  to  be  bribed  into  insignificance  by  a  stray 
•mile,  or  a  great  piece  of  pound-cake. 

We  were  now  at  the  very  edge  of  the  water — a  largo 
green  spot  of  well-trodden  turf  on  our  right,  and  a 
group  of  old  trees  on  our  left. 


THE    DOWN    EA.STERS,    &C.    &,C.  183 

Now,  sir,  said  Gage,  now  if  you  desire  to  know  the 
real  character  of  the  woman  who  rules  you,  and  would 
rule  every  body  if  she  could,  with  a  sceptre  of  iron — 
twisted  about  with  full  blown  roses — stick  to  my  side- 
If  he  does  not  bring  her  out,  I  will — what  say  you — 
yes  or  no  ? — will  you  pitch  me  into  the  river,  knock 
me  down,  or  give  me  the  hug  of  a  brother? 

I  could  not  reply — my  heart  was  too  heavy  and  my 
breathing  too  thick. 

You  know,  continued  he,  that  your  every-day  wo 
men  have  a  knack  of  be-praising  each  other,  till  they 
provoke  you  either  to  laugh  at  or  to  contradict  them, 
which  contradictions  by  the  by,  I  never  knew  a  wo 
man  lose  her  temper  about,  although  the  dearest  of 
her  "dear  five  hundred  friends"  were  the  sufferer. 
Now,  if  you  will  keep  near  roe  and  watch  the  widow, 
you  shall  see  her  play  a  game  as  much  superior  to 
that,  as  that  is  superior  to  the  bare-faced  play  of  two 
fish-women,  who  hate  each  other  and  abuse  each  other 
by  the  hour. 

The  younger  part  of  the  females  were  now  dancing 
away,  every  one  with  her  heart  in  her  eyes,  much  as  we 
might  expect  from  newly-born  creatures,  never  per 
mitted,  save  under  the  most  jealous  and  vigilant  guar 
dianship,  to  feel  the  influence  of  shadow  and  green 
ness,  or  wind  and  moonlight,  or  sky  and  water. 
Among  them  was  one,  who  excited  a  universal  mur- 
rnur  of  surprise  wherever  she  went.  Every  eye  was 
upon  her — every  bound  and  every  swing  was  followed 
by  a  leap  of  the  heart  among  those  who  stood  near 
me  (if  they  were  to  be  believed)  and  by  correspon 
dent  inclinations  of  the  part  of  those  who  were  a  little 
further  off.  They  persuaded  her  to  sing,  and  I  should 


184  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

say  from  the  little  I  heard,  that — somehow  or  otheiv 
it  was  not  music,  but  something  better  than  music — 
the  melody  of  wild  birds  in  the  sky — it  issued  I  dare 
say  from  her  benign  mouth,  bnt  it  appeared  to  issue 
from  hei;  large  dreaming  eyes — I  borrow  this  idea 
from  Gage,  who  filled  me  with  poetry  before  I  knew 
where  I  was.  While  we  were  looking  after  her,  she 
emerged  for  a  moment  from  the  shade  of  a  drooping 
willow  near  us,  into  the  broad  light  of  the  moon. 

Gracious  God  !  breathed  somebody  at  my  elbow — 
it  was  the  cry  of  a  heart  overburthened  with  joy, 
brimful  of  prayer — instantaneously  delivered  of  some 
bright  hope.  Gracious  God — what  a  face  ! 

Now  for  it,  whispered  Gage,  now  for  the  beautiful 
widow  ! 

Look  into  the  depth  of  her  eyes  !  you  may  see 

her  very  soul  in  motion  there  ! 

That  you  may  !  said  the  widow — 

You  may  look  down  as  it  were  into  the  deep  of  her 
heart — 

Precisely,  said  the  widow. 

But  how  is  this — you  do  not  appear  to  like  her  so- 
much — who  is  she  ? 

Not  like  her!  bless  your  heart,  how  mistaken  you 
are  !  why  that  is  the  very  girl  you  have  heard  me 
speak  so  much  of — 

Not  Rosa  Moore  ! 

— The  same  ;  but  I  see_you  like  her,  and  I  am  so 
glad  !  for  do  you  know,  my  friend,  that  there  are 
people,  who  some  how  or  other,  don't  appear  to  like 
that  wild  expression  of  the  eye,  which  to  me,  and  I 
dare  say  to  you,  is  the  chief  charm  of  her  face — the; 
jure  poetry  of  the  girl's  nature. 


THIT   DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &.C.  185 

I  never  saw  so  much  poetry  in  a  mortal's  face  be 
fore  cried  Middleton  ;  nor  so  much  purity. 

Indeed never  I 

No,  never  ! 

Well,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so — poor  thing  ! 

Poor  thing,  widow  !  is  she  so  very  much  to  be 
pitied  ? 

Pitied — O,  no  !  what  could  put  such  an  idea  inta 
your  head  ;  to  tell  you  the  truth,  she  is  a  prodigious 
favorite  of  mine — heigho. 

Indeed,  as  you  say,  in — deed  ! 

though  for  the  last  year  or  two  I  have  not  been 

able  to  see  poor  Rasa,  quite  so — ah,  we  are  over 
heard — 

Well,  what  if  we  are — 

Some  other  time  if  you  please — 

Nay,  nay,  my  dear  widow,  if  you  please ;  out  with 
what  you  have  to  say,  if  you  mean  to  impeach  he* 
character — 

Impeach  her  character  I- — I ! — Heaven  forbid  ! 

But  you  might  as  well  impeach  it,  as  to  say  yon 
have  something  to  tell  me  about  her,  which  you  dare 
not  tell  me  before  a  third  person — 

How  you  talk  !  Hush,  hush — don't  talk  so  loud — 
all  I  meant  to  say  was — 

No,  no,  my  dear  Madam,  no  whispering  here^  if 
you  please. 

— Well  then — the  dear  girl  does  look  rather  toe 
much  like  her  unfortunate  mother  ;  but — a — a — how 
do  you  like  her  dancing  ? 

Beautiful ! — beautiful ! 

You  do  think  so,  don't  you?     I  knew  you  would  ;: 

and  you  have  no  idea  how  delighted  I  am  to  have  you 
Q2 


186;  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

on  my  side.     It  is  beautiful,  and  they  may  say  what; 
they  please,,  now. 

Quite  wonderful  I  think  ! 
So  do  I  !   very  wonderful ! 
Ah,  my  dear  widow  ! 

And  what  if  the  poor  girl  (in  a  soothing  coaxing 
voice)  never  did  learn  a  step,  that  only  makes  it  so 
much  the  more  wonderful,  you  know — 

Here  Gage  looked  at  me,  in  such  a  way,  that  I 
knew  not  whether  to  laugh  or  cry ;  and  after  a  word 
with  Middleton  which  I  did  not  hear,  he  begged  the 
.widow  to  say  when  she  would  go  to^the  theatre  with, 
him  and  his  four  maiden  sisters — 
Whenever  you  please — 

On  Friday  we  have  the  School  for  Scandal,  the  part 
of  Mrs.  Candour  by — perhaps  you  know  the  play — 
Perhaps  I  do,  said  she,  giving  him  a  rap  over  the 
head  with  her  fan.     What  weather  !  two  nights  ago 
we   found   a  fire   comfortable,   and  now,  it  is    warm 
enough  in  the  open  air  to  put  us  all  out  of  breath — 
However  to  finish  what  I  was  going  to  say  about  our 
beloved  Rosa — I  have  an  idea  that — heigho. 
Lord  !  how  she  flashes  over  the  green  turf  ! 

that  if  she  had  a  fine  ear  for  music  now,  it  would 

be  of  great  advantage  to  her — in  the  step — 
Have  you,  really  ! 

She  would  keep  time  better  of  course — though,  to 

be  sure,  it  would  not  be  so  very  wonderful  as  now — 

Keep  the  time  better — she  keep  time  to  the  music! 

hang  it  widow,  the  music  ought  to  keep  time  to  her, 

Xn-deed ! 

Yes  my  dear  madam — in-deed  ! 
And  though  she  did  take  it  up  all  of  her  own  head, 
as  we  say,  and  rather  late  in  life — 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  187 

Rather  late  in  life  ? 

Considering  her  age,  I  mean  ;  her  poor  mother,.as 
I  told  you,  being  a  sort  of  a — having  a — but  that's  no 
fault  of  her's  you  know,  and  I  would  not  have  our 
dear  sweet  Rosa  reminded  of  it,  no  not  for  the  world — 

Tut— tut— 

Ah  !  cried  Gage,  looking  up  to  the  sky,  ah  !  upon 
my  soul,  widow,  I  can  see  the  rest  of  the  family. 

Oh  fye,  Mr.  Gage. 

Don't  stare,  widow,  I  mean  the  creatures  of  the  blue 
sky,  the  angels  that  keep  watch  over  the  pure  and 
good — Ah,  widow,  widow  !  the  Being  that  made  her 
must  have  been  less  terrible  than  you  believe  in  your 
church. 

Why,  how  you  talk  Atherton  Gage  !  how  dare  you 
-^-are  you  not  afraid  the  sky  will  fall. 

No  indeed,  not  I. 

All  very  true  and  very  sublime,  I  dare  say,  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Amory,  but,  I'll  leave  it  to  Mr.  Fox — 
would'nt  it  have  been  as  well  for  the  dear,  dear  crea 
ture,  to  learn  a  figure  with  live  partners,  befoie  she 
threw  ofi"  with  such  people  as  you  see  there — 

Madam,  said  1. 

Widow  !  said  her  companion,  letting  go  her  arm. 

Sir. 

A  word  more  and  I  shall  hate  you — continued  the 
latter. 

And  so  shall  I ;  whispered  Gage. 

In-deed  !  why,  you  know  she  must  have  learnt  with 
chairs,  for  you  see  that  whenever  the  people  change 
places  the  poor  girl  is  all  at  sea — 
Fire  and  fury  ! 

If  she  would  turn  her  toes  out  however,  I  do  say, 


188  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

and  I  do  not  care  who  hears  rne,  that  Rosa  would  be 
a  most  lovely  dancer  .... 

Whew  ! — whew  ! — whew  !  cried  Fox,  do  the  wo 
men  up  there,  (pointing  to  the  sky)  do  they  turn  their 
toes  out,  think  ye  ? 

How  do  I  know,  said  the  widow — such  mysteries 
are  above  our  knowledge;  but — 

But  if  they  dance,  you  will  say — 

If  they  do  dance,  I  humbly  hope  they  do  not  dance 
parrot-toed. 

Now  as  -for  me,  said  Middleton,  I'd  rather  see  alt 
the  cherubim  al  work  on  all-fours  parrot-toed,  than, 
beautiful  creatures  of  earth  dancing  alter  the  fashion  of 
our  day. 

Oh— dreadful! 

Why  Mr.  Middleton  !  said  somebody  else,  you  are 
enough  to  scare  every  body  out  o'  the  room. 

Really,  Mr.  Middleton,  added  the  fair  widow,  you 
make  our  blood  run  cold — 

I  am  sorry  fop  that,  my  dear  widow  ;  but  when 
I:see  people  who  ought  to  know  better,  praising  a  step 
in  the  dance  of  a  pretty  girl,  not  because  it  is  beauti- 
tiful  or  graceful,  but  because  it  is  difficult,  I  am — ah — 
ready  to — ready  for 'sdeath  !  it  cannot  be  I 

Wrell,  sir,  ready  for  what  ? 

Heavens  !  how  pale  you  are!  cried  the  widow- 
Pale  !  not  I,  indeed  ! 

But  you  are  pale  Gerard^  you  are  !  whispered  Gage 
and  your  lip  quivers,  and  I  see  a  fine  sweat  on  your 
forehead,  which — my  dear  fellow  ! — let  us  begono  f- 
you  are  ill — very  ill,  I  am  sure. 

No,  no — I  am  better  now,  that  sweep  of  the  fresh 
air,  and  the  voice,  I  don't  hear  it  now — do  you  ? 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  189 

What  voice  ? 

What  voice,  my  dear  Atherton,  look  at  me. 

Gage  turned  and  looked — and  then  throwing  up  his 
hands  with  a  remarkable  change  of  countenance,  he 
added  in  alow  voice,  madman  !  all  eyes  are  upon  you! 

Atherton  Gage  !  I  did  hear  it,,  I  tell  you. 

Hear  what ! 

I  heard  a  peculiar  note  in  the  uproar  just  now — 
don't  laugh  at  me — I  would  swear  to  it  on  my  death 
bed. 

Nay,  nay,  Gerard — recollect  yourself — you  are  de 
ceived. 

The  widow  grew  very  pale  now,  and  her  breathing 
changed,  and  her  eyes  wandered  away  into  the  sha 
dow,  with  a  look  that  made  me  wish  myself  on  board 
the  ship  once  more,  and  once  for  all. 

How  do  you  like  her  singing?  continued  a  pretty 
girl  near  me,  who  had  not  opened  her  mouth  for  a. 
whole  hour,  and  she  opened  it  now,  in  the  hope  that 
Robody  would  hear  what  she  said — just  as  I  have  seen 
a  youthful  orator,  who  had  made  up  his  heart  for  a 
speech,  wait — and  wait^and  wait — -and  stew  and 
wriggle,  and  wriggle  and  stew,  till  the  meeting  was 
nearly  over,  when  if  a  great  uproar  occurred,  enough 
to  encourage  him,  up  he  would  jump  and  call  on  the 
Moderator — Mr.  Moderator!  Mr.  Moderator!  Mr. 
Moderator  !  in  a  big  bold  voice,  which  if  the  Modera 
tor  saw  him,  or  the  mob  grew  still,  in  the  hope  of  a 
speech,  would  end  with — I  beg  leave  to  say,  uttered 
in  a  hurried  far  off  squeak,  that  nobody,  not  even  the 
Moderator  could  be  able  to^ trace. 

Very  much,  said  I. 

I  did'nt  speak  to  you,  said  she,  putting  up  he/  lip  at 


190  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C. 

me,  and  looking  at  the  hero  of  the  night,  as  if  we  all 
three  belonged  to  the  nursery. 

Ah,  but  if  you  had  been  so  lucky  as  to  hear  the 
sweet  girl  sing  before  she  took  lessons,  you  would 
have  liked  her  still  better  1  am  sure,  said  Mrs.  Amory. 

Why  so — 

Ah,  she  was  so  natural  then  I 

But  what  a  fine  figure  though  !  said  Gage,  touching 
me  with  his  elbow- 

Very  fine,  said  I — very  !     Superb  ! 

True,  said  Mrs.  Amory — that's  precisely  the  word 
for  her — superb — and  yet,  would  you  believe  it  ?  she 
has  not  come  to  her  growth  yet ;  she  is  only  in  her 
fifteenth  year — 

In-deed  ! 

Yes — but  her  mother  was  very  large  ;  are  you  par 
tial  to  large  women,  Gerard — Mr.  Middleton.  I  mean. 

Large  women !  said  Middleton — no  indeed,  not  I — 
but  who  said  any  thing  about  large  women  or  fat 
women?  She  is  what  Mr.  Fox  calls  her,  a  superb- 
looking  girl — 

And  so  she  is,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you  ;  a  superb 
woman  for  a  ride  on  horse-back,  for  the  head  of  a 
table,  for  a  walk  on  the  battery*  or  a  walk  in  the  ballr 
room,  though  not  perhaps  petite  enough  altogether, 
for  a  dance — a  tea-table,  or  a  fire-side,  or  a  nursery. 

There,  there!  that'll  do ah  !  what  is  that  but  a 

step,  I  should  like  to  knojv  !  as  pretty  a  rigadoon  as 
ever  I  saw  in  my  life. 

And  so  it  is  I  declare  !  and  see  too  how  near  she  ia 
to  the  music,  now — only  a  little  too  fast,  a  very  little 
— dear  Rosa ! 

She  a  little  fast,  no  my  dear  widow— the  music's  a 
little  too  slow,  whenever  they  do  not  move  together.. 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &-C.    &C.  191 

*There  again  !  cried  Gage,  the  sound  appears  to 
<come  tip  out  of  the  earth  where  her  foot  falls,  very 
much  as  if  it  waited  for  the  step  ;  and  her  voice  too — 
Lord,  Lord!  what  a  voice  to  be  sure!  Would  you 
have  such  a  voice  whimpering  a  lullaby  over  a  heap 
of  blue  and  white  yarn  ;  with  the  toe  of  such  a  foot 
as  you  see  there,  on  the  tip-end  of  a  cradle-rocker? 
Why,  it  sounds  like  a — like  a — a  nest  of  canary-birds, 
in  a  hawthorn  bush,  pure  Italian  coming  up  by  star 
light  from  the  deep  sea where  now  Gerard  ? 

Mr.  Middleton ! — Mr.  Middleton  ?  what's  the  mat 
ter  !  what  ails  you  !  stop,  I  beseech  you  ! 

Madam — 

Before  you  go  that  way,  a  word  with  you,  and  with 
our  two  friends  here — 

With  me  !  said  the  haughty  southerner. 

With  me,  said  I,  and  my  heart  was  in  my  throat* 

Why,  Middleton  !  how  agitated  you  are  ! — cried 
Gage. 

Woman — woman! — are  you  playing  tricks  with 
me  again ! 

Middleton — Gerard  Middleton,  hear  me — recollect 
yourself,  I  beseech  you. 

Woman  !  repeated  he,  in  a  low  voice,  woman — I 
feel  a  dread  here — my  heart  misgives  me — you  know 
the  story — you  know  the  whole  of  it,  I  never  asked 
you  how  ;  but  you  have  heard  my  oath,  and  I  should 
hope — look  at  me — I  hear  a  voice-^-you  know  what  I 
mean. 

I  do — you  have  heard  the  voice  of  a  broken-hearted 
gifl ;  a  girl  that  should  have  been  your  wife,  Gerard 
Middleton,  years  ago,  though  you  are  still  a  boy — 

Here's  a  to-do  I  thought  I — here's  a  blow  up  !  hang 


192  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,  &C.    &C. 

me,  if  I  don't  believe  I  shall  suffer  the  ship  to  go  sefc 
without  me,  after  all ! 

My  wife  !  she  my  wife  !  a  half-breed  of  the  Creeks* 

And  what  are  you,  but  a  half-breed  ? 

Madam  !  say  what  you  have  to  say,  and  let  me  go  : 
I  have  not  come  here  to  be  insulted  :  my  birth  is  pure 
- — my  blood  is  pure,  though  I  may  be  somewhat 
darker  than  your  babies  of  the  north. 

You  loved  her,  did  you  not  ? 

I  did. 

You  married  her  too,  did  you  not,  according  to  the 
laws  of  her  tribe  ? 

And  what  if  I  did? 

Ah  !  you  blush  ! 

And  what  if  I  do  ? 

It  gives  me  hope,  it  gives  me  courage.  That  wo» 
man  is  now  here.  She  is  not  so  dark  as  I  am — will 
you  see  her — I  beseech  you  to  see  her  ! 

And  why  should  I  see  her !  You  do  not  hope — 
surely,  surely,  you  do  not  hope  that  I  would  marry  a 
woman  with  a  drop  of  indian-blood  in  her  veins  !  I 
loved  her,  and  I  love  her  yet — I  love  her  too  much  to 
risk  her  with  my  kindred — but  you  do  not  believe 
me — 

No  sir,  I  do  not — 

Well,  then,  hear  the  truth.  I  would  not  put  my 
hand  into  hers  now,  I  would  not  kiss  her  forehead 
now,  for  all  the  wealth  of-America.  Had  you  known 
me,  you  would  never  have  dared  to  say  what  you 
have  now  said — were  she  a  white  woman,  I  tell  you, 
were  she  from  among  the  proudest  of  our  proud  white 
women,  I  would  not  marry  her  now.  You  have  an 
idea  that  because  I  love,  because  I  have  acknowledg- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  193 

eel  to  you  that  I  never  should  cease  to  love  her; 
because  I  would  drain  my  heart  here,  hefore  your 
face,  to  make  her  happy,  you  believe  I  would  be 
wretch  enough  to  marry  her — 

No  sir,  not  to  marry  her,  but  to  acknowledge  her. 
"We  know  that  she  is  your  wife  now,  your  lawful 
wife — arid  a  wife  that  you  or  any  other  man  might  be 
proud  of — 

You  do  not  know  all. 

I  do,  I  do;  I  know  that  you  deserted  her,  that  after 
she  knew  our  law,  you  refused  to  marry  her  by  that 
law,  and  that  you  left  her  a  prey  to  the  white  men — 

If  you  knew  all — all — you  would  not  speak  as  you 
now  do  to  me. 

I  know  enough  to  justify  me  in  saying  that  she  de 
serves  you,  and  that  she  loves  you  so  much  that  you 
will  be  the  death  of  her,  and  that — ah ! — where  is 
your  courage  now  ! 

God  be  merciful  to  you !  I  feel  that  she  is  near  me ! 
Speak  to  her  !  speak  to  her  I  conjure  you!  let  her 
not  see  me ! 

Something  approached  here  :  and  he  folded  his 
arms  and  waited  for  it  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
«arth;  and  after  a  few  moments  two  females  drew 
near,  one  a  little  in  advance  oC  the  other  in  a  black 
satin  dress  that  glittered  *^d  shivered  as  if  her  very 
soul  were  escaping  from  her  body.  She  saw  Middle- 
ton,  and  stopped  short  on  her  way,  and  held  out  both 
her  hands—  out  he  would  not  see  her,  and  I  had  only 
time  to  observe,  by  a  side  view  of  her  face  and  the 
turn  of  her  neck,  that  she  was  very  beautiful  and 
rather  fair,  with  little  or  nothing  to  show  that  she 
had  the  impure  drop  in  her  blood. 
R 


194  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &C. 

Madam,  said  Middleton,  to  the  widow,  in  a  voice 
that  I  should  not  have  known,  so  altered  was  it — /do 
not  shrink  norquail,  you  perceive.  She  does.  Now 
is  your  time  to  save  her — go  to  her — go  to  her  if  you 
have  any  mercy ;  tell  her  that  I  forgive  her,  she  will 
know  what  you  mean;  but  say  that — so  help  me  God  ! 
— I  will  never  touch  her  hand  again,  while  I  breathe 
the  breath  of  life  !  She  has  made  a  devil  of  me  !  and 
wo  to  her,  and  wo  to  you !  if  you  do  not  check  her 
now  that  she  is  about  crossing  my  path  ! 

Let  us  go  !  said  a  voice,  which  appeared  farther  off, 
as  if  it  came  from  her  companion.  There  is  no  hope. 
I  have  made  the  trial,  I  have  done  my  duty,  and  now, 
he  is  yours — I  have  done  with  him  forever.  His  fate 
is  in  your  hands — do  with  him  what  you  will.  I  told 
you  how  it  would  be.  Let  us  go. 

I  stared  with  astonishment,  and  was  satisfied  that 
the  speech  issued,  not  from  the  lips  of  the  girl  I  saw, 
but  from  the  other.  That  is  no  Indian,  said  I  to  Gage, 
as  we  walked  away. 

You  are  mistaken — she  is  a  fourth  breed. 

How  so  ? 

Come  this  way Her  grand-father  was  a  Spaniard; 

her  grand-mother  q  native  Creek  ;  she  is  a  quadroon, 
therefore;  she  was  brought  up  among  the  Creeks: 
and  there  he  met  with  her  f-Ul  five  years  ago.  They 
were  married,  and  they  were  ^ppy,  for  he  did  not 
know  until  they  had  beea_married  a  few  weeks,  that 
her  blood  was  not  pure — 

Not  pure  ! — 

— No  ;  and  as  they  were  married,  not  according  to 
our  law,  he  told  her  that  she  should  never  be  hig 
wife — his  real  wife  ;  and  forsook  her  ;  and  his  father 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  195 

sent  him  to  college  to  complete  his  education  :  There  ! 
you  know  the  whole  story  now — poor  fellow,  I  pity 
him  ;  he'll  never  marry  another,  and  he  cannot  marry 
her  by  the  laws  of  Georgia. 

D n  the  laws  of  Georgia  ! 

So  I  say  ;  for  she's  a  noble  creature. 

And  he  ! — what  is  he  ! • 

He  ! — oh,  he  is  of  the  blood-royal  of  the  south. 

By  the  Gods,  if  I  knew  her,  I  would  offer  myself  t<x 
her — 

Would  you  really! 

Yes,  I  would  ! 

Are  you  aware  of  the  consequences  ? 

Perfectly  :  if  it  were  known  to  the  whites  of  our 
free  and  equal  community,  she  and  I  both,  and  our 
children's  children  would  be  pointed  at  and  scoffed  at, 
for  the  marriage.  And  yet,  were  we  to  cross  the  sea, 
and  take  refuge  in  Europe,  I  should  be  greeted  by 
princes  for  the  sake  of  my  wife,  and  she  would  be  the 
equal  of  their  proudest  women. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

NOT  a  wink  of  sleep  did  I  get  for  the  whole  night, 
after  the  scene  I  have  described.  I  was  too  happy — 
my  heart  was  too  full;  but  then,  to  be  sure,  I  had  no 
need  of  sleep.  I  could  bear  to  be  awake  now,  for  my 
mouth  was  no  longer  parched  by  my  breathing,  nor 
my  blood  heavy  with  a  heaviness  which  no  mortal 
could  bear,  without  feeling  that  if  it  continued,  he 
would  soon  have  no  business  on  earth.  Ah,  thought 
I,  as  I  lay  hour  after  hour  with  my  eyes  shut  and  the 
window  curtains  drawn — Ah  !  what  a  noble  creature 
it  is!  How  unjust  I  have  been!  how  I  have  wrcnged 
her  admirable  heart!  and  how  meekly  she  lias  borne 
the  outrage!  And  what  if  she  is  a  little  given  to 
coquetry,  who  cares?  And  what  if  she  is  a  little 
absent  in  her  speech  ?  And  what  if  she  does  a  little 
overdo  the  character  of  a  religious  woman,  that  she 
may  keep  well  with  society,  and  get  rid  of  her  two 
daughters?  Why  should  you  blame,  her  Mr.  Fox? 
I'sn't  she  a  mother?  Mr.  Fox,  and  if  she  should  ever 

become  your gulp,  Mr.  Fox — wouldn't  that  be  so 

much  the  better  for  you  Mr.  Fox  ?  Talk  of  her  bad 
faith  too,  toward  other  wrunen  !  Why,  what  a  fool 
you  are, 'Mr.  Fox!  and  what  a  knave  you  are  Mr. 
Fox,  when,  if  either  of  you  had  half  an  eye,  you 
would  see  that  she  takes  a  very  sincere  pleasure  in 
the  society  of  the  young  and  beautiful  of — of — of  her 
own  sex.  And  of  our  sex  too,  I  should  have  added- 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  197 

at  any  other  time,  but  now  I  was  too  happy.     And 
what  if  she — ah,  a  knock — who's  there? 

A  boy  from  the  ship,  sir 

Well  what  does  he  want,  sir? 

He  wants  to  see  you 

Open  the  door;  what  do  you  want  my  lad  ? 

Want  you  sir. 

Me! 

If  you  please;  we're  only  waitin' for  you  ;  anchor's 

weighed  sir ;  fair  a  wind  as  ever  blowed 

Give  my  compliments  to  captain  Goff,  and  tell  him 
I  have  had  no  sleep  for  a  week,  that  I  can't  think  of 
a  trip  to  the  south-sea,  before  I  have  had  a  nap,  and 
that  if  the  wind  keeps  fair,  I  shall  try  to  be  aboard  in 
the  course  of  the  day. 

May  be  you'll  write  as  much  to  the  cap'n — that's 
rather  a  tough  message  for  him,  jess  when  the  ship  is 
ready  for  sea. 

D the  ship  ! 

You'll  excuse  me  sir,  but  we  never  hear  nobody 
damn  the  ship,  and  it's  my  private  opinion  sir. 

You  rascal  !  if  you  dare  to  shake  your  head  at  me, 

I'll — odds  bobbs  !  I'll  beat  you  to  death 

Ah,  you're  abed  now,  an'  so  I've  only  to  say  that 
if  you  don't  go  aboard  the  boat  now,  you'll  never  go 
aboard  the  ship — for  we're  tired  o'  waitin'  for  you. 

Be  off,  you  dog  you!- 

Very  well  sir 

What  are  you  laughing  at? 

Your  things  are  aboard,  you  knowT 

D n  the  things  ! 

Very  well  sir,  good  by'e  sir — a  pleasant  voyage  to 
you  sir ;  you'll  find  your  things  on  the  wharf. 
R2 


198  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    <fcc.    &CV 

On  the  wharf! 

Ay  sir ;  cap'n  Goff  told  us  to  take  them  up 
us  in  the  jolly-boat,  and  if  you  did'nt  see  proper  to 
be  ready  for  this  wind,  to  leave  'em  on  the  wharf,  and 
wish  you  a  pleasant  voyage — in  the  wake  o'  the  widder 
Amory. 

I  could  bear  this  no  longer.  To  be  jested  with 
about  the  widow  Amory  by  the  captain  of  a  ship — 
the  messenger  a  cabin  boy,  was  a  little  too  bad.  Out 
I  jumped,  with  a  full  determination  to  pitch  the  rascal 
through  the  window  ;  but  he  slipped  off,  and  I  heard 
him  laughing  outside  of  the  door,  which  he  flung  in 
my  face,  and  all  the  way  down  stairs.  I  had  half  a 
mind  to  follow  him  in  my  shirt. 

However — I  was  now  out  of  bed,  Jupiter  be 
praised,  though  but  for  him  (the  boy  I  mean)  I  should 
have  whiled  away  another  hour  in  that  place  of  all 
places  for  a  man  half  mad  with  love  ;  and  being  up, 
I  had  the  courage  to  stay  up,  though  I  was  never 
addicted  to  air-baths,  and  to  occupy  a  full  hour  in 
getting  my  clothes  on.  Before  I  was  rigged  for  the 
day,  another  messenger  arrivetl,  with  a  note  from  the 
dear,  dear  widow,  calling  me  her  dear  dear  friend, 
and  praying  me  to  give  her  a  call  about  five,  and  to 
bring  with  me  some  book,  to  justify  me  for  calling  at 
such  an  hour  of  the  day. 

Ah,  ha  !  said  I  to  myself,  now  we  are  coming  to  it; 
our  widow  is  in  the  trap,~4he  very  trap  she  laid  for 
us !  now  query,  whether  to  give  her  a  little  trout 
play  before  we  let  her  feel  the  hook  or  not?  So 
much  for  perseverance — faint  heart  never  won  fair 
lady — d n  the  ship  ! 

As  the  clock  struck  five,  on  that  memorable  day-r- 


DOWN    EASTERS,     &.C.     &C.  199 

the  happiest  day  of  my  life,  the  knocker  sounded 
with  a  double  rap  (such  as  the  postmen  of  England 
give)  at  No.  —  Broadway;  and  the  next  moment  I 
was  on  a  sofa  by  the  side  of  the  beautiful  widow.  I 
have  sent  for  you,  said  she,  that  I  may  explain  to  you 
the  cause  of  Avhat  you  saw  here  last  evening.  The 
truth  is — heigho — and  here  she  faltered,  and  some 
how  or  other,  I  got  hold  of  her  hand  again — it  was 
like  a  live  bird  in  my  grasp — and  in  short  I  was  very 
happy,  so  happy  I  declare,  that  if  she  had  proposed 
to  pledge  me  in  a  glass  of  laudanum,  I  would  have 
pledged  her,  and  gone  to  sleep  forever  at  her  side. 
What  I  say  will  appear  strange  I  know,  but  I  cannot 
help  it.  I'  say  nothing  but  the  truth.  Most  men 
would  not  like  to  die  at  such  a  time,  I  dare  say ;  but 
as  for  me — I  did  not  care  half  so  much  for  life  as 
for  companionship — everlasting  companionship.  My 
doubts  were  gone — she  loved  me,  even  as  I  loved  her, 
and  though  she  did  not  actually  promise  marriage,  I 
knew  by  the  brilliant  moisture  in  her  eyes,  and  by 
the  swelling  of  her  heart,  and  by  the  changes  of  color, 
that  I  should  prevail  one  day  or  other  ;  and  so,  as  I 
have  said  before,  I  was  happy. 

Well — before  we  parted,  she  told  me  the  story  of 
the  Indian  girl.  It  wore  another  shape  now  ;  she  had 
been  so  well  educated  as  to  be  able  to  teach  in-  a  sort 
of  missionary-school ;  her  mother  was  only  a  half 
breed,  her  father  a  white  man,  so  that  she  had 
little  or  no  impure  blood  in  her  veins.  Middleton 
had  met  with  her  first  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a 
plantation  that  his  father  had  on  the  very  outskirts  of 
Georgia.  He  fell  in  love  with  her  and  she  with  him, 
and  so  they  were  separated.  His  father  sent  him  to 


200  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    dtc.    «fcc. 

college,  and  her  mother  took  her  into  the  wilderness, 
where  she  taught  her  to  avoid  the  pale  man.  But  the 
boy  grew  tired  of  the  north,  and  after  many  yearst 
they  met  again  at  a  lodge  in  the  creek  territory,  and 
there,  the  mother  being  dead  and  the  father  away, 
the  boy  and  the  girl  were  married — he  with  no 
thought  of  treachery,  for  he  loved  her  ;  she  in  the 
deep  seriousness  of  Indian  faith.  After  they  had 
been  married  a  few  weeks,  a  missionary  fell  in  the 
way  of  thjjfrpoor  bride  while  her  young  husband  was 
out  in  search  of  his  father,  and  persuaded  her  that 
she  was  living  as  the  bad  women  rK  Scripture  lived 
ages  and  ages  ago,  as  the  pure  of  heart  and  proud  of 
soul  should  not  live.  The  Indian  wife  grew  sorrow 
ful,  and  having  satisfied  herself  that  by  the  law  of 
the  young  white  man's  tribe  she  was  not  a  wife,  she 
met  him  on  his  way  back,  and  before  she  would  suffer 
him  to  lay  his  mouth  to  her  forehead,  being  so  taught 
by  the  missionary  at  her  elbow,  she  demanded  of  her 
boy-husband  to  be  acknowledged  by  the  law  of  his 
tribe,  even  as  he  had  been  acknowledged  by  the  law 
of  her  tribe.  At  any  other  time,  it  may  be,  for  the 
boy  loved  her  so  much  that  he  grew  serious — it  may 
be  that  he  would  have  done  all  that  she  prayed  for — 
but  now — now,  while  the  prompter  stood  at  her  elbow,, 
and  appeared  to  glory  in  the  power  of  the  church, 
the  boy  said  no.  A  week  passed  over,  and  still  he 
said  no — another  week,  and  he  and  his  wife  were 
apart  forever,  he  mad  with  jealousy,  she  stung  to  the 
heart,  believing  the  boy  to  be  even  what  the  missiona 
ry  told  her  he  was,  a  betrayer.  But  she  was  a  proud 
girl  and  her  spirit  awoke  when  the  boy  deserted  her ; 


THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &C.  201 

and  she  prayed  the  missionary  to  tell  her  how  she 
might  be  worthy,  as  worthy  as  the  proud  white  wo 
men  were,  of  such  love  as  the  proud  white  men  bore 
toward  such  as  they  made  their  wives  by  the  law. 
He  told  her  how  to  be  what  the  white  women  are,  he 
educated  her,  and  his  wife  trained  her  to  the  church, 
and  they  took  her  away  to  the  sea  shore — such  is 
her  story. 

But  he  deceived  her,  and  deceived  her  at  a  time 
when  she  needed  all  the  consolation  of  hope  and 
faith  and  charity,  for  she  was  beathing  the  very  air 
that  her  husband  breathed,  and  hearing  every  day 
that  he  was  leading  a  life  which  would  separate  them 
forever.  She  inquired  of  the  church,  and  they  told 
her  with  their  hands  on  the  bible  and  with  tears  in 
their  eyes,  that  if  she  could  not  reclaim  the  boy  to 
the  path  of  truth,  virtue,  or  in  other  words  to  the 
true  faith,  he  would  be  miserable,  and  she  happy,  in 
their  future  life,  that  both  would  be  apart,  forever  and 
ever.  I  will  save  him  !  said  she — I  will  save  -him, 
or — and  she  stopped,  and  her  voice  died  away,  and  she 
spoke  not  another  word  until  the  interview  was 
arranged  that  I  saw  by  the  river  side. 

But  who  was  that  other  female  with  her  ? 

I  do  not  know — I  never  saw  her  face  till  she  flung 
aside  her  veil  and  stood  before  him  with  outstretched 
arms. 

What ! — was  not  she  that  came  forward,  that  pale, 
slender  creature,  the  Indian  wife  you  are  speaking  of? 

No,  indeed — she  was  a  stranger  to  me  ;  I  never  saw 
her  before. 

Indeed! — there  is  some  mystery  about  this  matter; 


202  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    &C.    &,C. 

I  should  like  to  have  some  talk  with  Mr.  Middleton 
about  her. 

Not  for  for  your  life,  my  dear  friend — I  am  sure  he 
did  not  see  her,  and  even  I,  intimate  as  we  are,  would 
not  mention  the  subject  to  him  for  the  world. 

After  a  little  further  conversation,  I  found  that  the 
interview  was  planned  by  the  dear  creature  at  my  el 
bow,  the  very  woman  that  we  had  so  cruelly  judged 
the  night  before.  Upon  my  word,  when  I  thought  of 
the  conversation  that  Gage  and  I  held  together  about 
her,  and  of  the  dreadful  n  isgiving  I  had — when  I 
saw  her  studying  the  eyes  of  Middleton,  I  was  ready  to 
go  down  on  my  knees  before  her,  and  bury  my  head 
in  her  lap  and — beg  her  pardon.  However,  to  make 
all  sure,  I  said  to  her  as  I  got  up  to  go 

My  dear  Laura 

Well  Peter  !  said  she. 

•         JB 

Peter! — Oh  that  unfortunate  name  of  mine  !  I  have 
kept  it  back  as  long  as  I  could — it  has  been  the  death 
of  me. 

I  wish  I  knew  exactly  what  your  feelings  are  to 
ward  that  young  man 

Gerard  Middleton,  you  mean.  Oh,  I  look  upon 
him  as  a  sort  of  child — poor  fellow  !  he  has  very  few 
friends  in  this  part  of  the  world,  very  few,  and  he  re 
gards  me  in  the  light  of  a  mother — 

Indeed ! 

Oh,  yes  !  I  often  speak_of  my  three  children  ;  the 
truth  is,  I  love  the  poor  boy  very  much. 

And  I  love  you  the  more  !  cried  I,  for  having  the 
courage  to  tell  me  so. 

I  cannot  give  him  up. — You'll  not  requirp  thnt? 


THE    DOWN    EASTBRS,    &C.    &.C.  203 

Give  him  up  !  No  indeed — poor  fellow,  I  pity  him 
&s  much  as  you  do,  and  for  your  sake  I  will  do  any 
thing  to  serve  him. 

Do  you  love  me,  Peter? 

God  !  how  I  do  love  you  !  said  I,  and  then  I  kissed 
her  mouth  and  her  eyes,  with  a  feeling  of  such  pure 
and  innocent  joy,  as  I  know  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of 
a  bad  man  to  feel.  Laura — I  added — Laura  !  look  at 
me,  I  beseech  you,  while  I  say  that  I  have  such  con 
fidence  in  you,  that  if  you  were  my  wife • 

Her  head  fell  on  my  shoulder  .  .  .  heigho  ! 

— My  wife,  dear,  and  I  had  to  go  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  I  should  leave  you  with  such  a  fixed  faith  in 
your  loyalty,  that  nothing  would  be  able  to  raise  a 
doubt  or  a  feur  in  my  mind,  save  the  avowal  of  un- 
worthiness  from  your  own  lips. 

She  wept;  I  could  feel  the  tears  trickle  over  my 
hand. 

If  it  should  be  so,  if  you  should  ever  be  my  wife, 
you  shall  not  have  to  reproach  me  with  a  lacjk  of  con 
fidence  in  you — for  if  there  be  truth  in  the  heart  of 
man,  love,  I  would  trust  you  any  where  on  earth — 

And  well  you  might ! 

—  With  any  body  on  earth  .  .  . 

Here  she  kissed  me,  and  my  heart  threw  a  somerset 

Ay,  and  strange  as  it  may  look  to  you,  were  you 
my  wife  now,  now  while  I  speak  to  you,  I  would  give 
you  up  to  another  man,  if  I  saw  that  I  could  not  make 
you  happy,  and  that  that  he  could,  or  if  I  knew 
that  you  loved  him  better  than  you  loved  me. 

Ah!  smiling  through  her  tears,  and  shaking  her 
head — ah  my  dear,  dear  Peter. 


204  THB    DOWN    EASTERS,    &.C.    &.C. 

I  could  do  so,  Laura,  for  I  have  done  so. 

I  believe  you  ;  and  here  she  kissed  me  and  clung  to 
me,  as  if — ah  ! — as  if  we  had  loved  each  other,  and 
each  other  alone,  up  from  our  very  childhood. 

But  enough — enough — the  catastrophe  drew  near, 
and  I — I  could  neither  eat  nor  sleep  for  joy  ;  I  passed 
half  my  time  with  her.  I  saw  her  every  day  of  my 
life — and  every  day  I  loved  her  more  and  more ;  I 
forgot  her  age,  I  forgot  her  widowhood — I  forgot 
every  thing  but  her  love  and  her  ready-made  family, 
and  the  hour  that  was  to  make  me,  not  a  bridegroom 
for  a  day,  but  a  bridegroom  for  life. 

About  a  week  before  the  consummation  of  our  mar 
riage  that  was  to  be,  my  dear  Laura  grew  so  affection 
ate  that  I  was  afraid  to  trust  myself  with  her.  And 
one  morning  as  we  sat  on  the  deep  couch  together — 
-cooing  and  billing — very  much  as  I  am  afraid  other 
people  do,  when  they  have  a  good  opportunity,  in 
spite  of  their  mothers  and  the  preachers,  and  thestory- 
tooks,  I  played  off  the  hero  in  such  a  way,  that  my 
dear,  dear  Laura,  burst  into  tears,  and  called  me  a 
godlike  man. 

I  tried  to  get  away,  but  her  overpowering  love  and 
gratitude  held  me,  till  we  heard  a  knock  at  the  door, 
when  she  darted  out  of  the  room,  saying  with  a  sweet 
smile — a  smile,  that  I  am  afraid,  will  haunt  me  to 
my  death-bed,  that  she  would  be  with  me,  after  the 
Tisiter,  whoever  he  migh-t  be,  was  chaired,  and  that  I 
must  not  be  alarmed  again,  as  I  had  been  once  before 
if  she  spoke  to  me  on  entering  the  room,  just  as  if  I 
had  not  seen  her  before  during  the  day.  I  agreed  to 
ihis,  for  I  love  propriety  in  every  possible  shape— » 


THE    DOWN    EASTER8,    &.C.    &.C.  205 

hough  not  very  fond  of  trick.  By  the  time  she 
was  out  of  one  door,  a  stranger  entered  another. 
It  was  Middleton — he  turned  very  pale  when  he  saw 
me,  though  I  supposed  he  knew  every  thing:  and 
more  pale,  after  I  told  him  in  reply  to  a  direct  enquiry 
on  his  part,  that  I  had  se«n  the  widow,  and  that 
*he  had  hurried  away  but  a  few  moments  before* 
I  waited  until  she  made  her  appearance,  gave  her  my 
hand  in  a  hurry,  to  show  that  I  was  not  afraid  to  leave 
her  in  such  company,  bowed  to  Middleton,  and  left 
her. 

The  next  day  I  received  a  letter  from  her,  just  as  I 
was  going  out  of  the  door  toward  her  house.  I  do  not 
give  in  the  passages  that  follow,  the  very  words  of  her 
letter— word  for  word — simply  because  it  contained 
a.  request  that  I  would  return  it,  which  I  did,  and  the 
passages  that  follow  are  gh-en  from  memory.  They 
are  few — but  they  are  enough  to  show  the  character 
of  the  woman. 

"  I  have  deceived  you  and  every  body  else.  I 
loved  Gerard  Middleton  a  year  and  a  half  before  I 
knew  you  :  I  love  him  still,  and  I  have  given  him 
•every  proof  of  1  jve  I  ever  gave  you,  and  more — yet  I 
aim  not  altogether  bad. 

I  love  him  still  better  than  any  other  man. 1 

hope  you  will  hate  me 1  esteem  and  admire 

you 1  shall  never  see  you  again,  if  I  can  help  it — 

never  alone  certainly. He  knows  every  thing,  and 

regards  me  as  he  ought;  I  did  intend  to  see  you  both 
together,  to  explain  myself  to  both,  and  to  hear  from 

you  both  how  you  scorn  and  loathe  me. Do  not 

<?all — I  shall  not  see  you,  I  have  all  confidence  in  you 

— it  is  impossible  to  have  more,  but  1  cannot  suffer 

s 


206  THE    DOWN    EASTERS,    dec.    «StC. 

you  to  keep  this  terrible  letter,  for  fear  of  accidents. 
I  hope  you  will  write  and  say  just  what  you  think  of 
my  behaviour,  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  say  any  thing 

to  me. But  oh! — I  do  not  speak  for  myself — oh, 

my  poor  children  ! You  need  not  fear  that  I  will 

do  any  thing  desperate — I  promise  you  I  will  not — 
when  you  next  hear  of  me,  I  shall  be  more  worthy  ot~ 
your  good  opinion." 


Z»D  Of   FIRST  TOLVMK. 


3  1970008242916 


•^?mw 

O     -e/%3£ 


DATE  DUE 


*/TVD 


